Umbram Ignis
by Mattwho81
Summary: When they are approached by another Chapter the Storm Heralds set out on a quest for vengeance but instead find themselves thrust into deadly peril from all sides. This story is a sequel to my previous story Noctem Oritur, art by Eddmos.
1. Chapter 1

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter1**

The council chamber was spacious and well-lit with tall stained glass windows shining historical victories onto beautiful white marble walls, the space was arranged into a 'T' shape, with a long nave stretching away so far it made echoes ring. At the end graceful columns rose to the gilded ceiling which ascended into an arched dome that was painted in glorious frescos of Him on Terra, the effect was somewhat spoiled by the dirty soot smeared across the windows and the gaps in the murals where tiles have been rattled loose by terrible blasts.

This was the grand council chamber for the Masters of the Storm Heralds Chapter, a place where decisions that affected trillions of lives were made and where history had unfolded, today it would do so once again. Set underneath the centre of the dome were a dozen chairs positioned in a semi-circle and sitting in those chairs were the Masters of the Storm Heralds, they were grim faced and stern for recent events had not been kind to the Chapter.

Only five months earlier their homeworld had suffered a terrible invasion by the forces of Chaos, the Third Company had been obliterated and the Fortress Monastery itself had been attacked. The war had been won but the cost had been great and the home of the Chapter had been practically levelled, even now the Storm Heralds were struggling to rebuild all that had been lost. Cleansing the planet had taken weeks, even for the full might of the chapter but they had not been allowed to linger, war called eternally and the bulk of their forces had been summoned away once more.

Sitting in one chair was Captain Toran, he was a young officer who had been promoted only recently during the fighting, his elevation had been controversial and his current position was uncertain in this council. His face was sternly set and he had one augmetic eye that flashed as he looked around at the assembled Lords and took in the mood of each.

In the very centre was Chapter Master Gorgall who was a surprisingly gaunt individual, lean and spare with nothing wasted at all about him, Gorgall seemed weary as if all the cares of the galaxy were pressing down upon him and the last few months had aged him terribly. Sitting to the Chapter Master's left was Chief Apothecary Lessall, who was furiously scowling at everything with his scarred visage. There was an air of tension between the pair for they vehemently disagreed on the Chapter's future, whether to cleave to the secular rule of Terra or embrace the Emperor as a divine being and so circumvent the High Lord's rule. The disagreement had blown up into a power struggle and there was no telling who would emerge victorious for the Chapter was deeply divided on whether they should stand with their allies or assert their autonomy as an isolated Chapter.

Toran's eye wandered on and he saw Ninth Captain Phalros, sitting primly with his senatorial expression giving nothing away. He had been placed in charge of the rebuilding of the Fortress Monastery, a task that would take years but if he resented such labours he gave no sign. Across from him was Chaplain Wrethan who was standing in a medical exoskeleton, his wounds in the fighting had been severe and even months later was not ready to don power armour. The Chaplain's recovery was slow but he would fight again, so until then he would stand in the Reclusiarch's place while the Master of Sanctity was away at war.

The Forgemaster was incapable of leaving his communion with the machine spirits so an equerry in the form of Techmarine Hevostan stood in for him. The last member of the gathering was Chief Librarian Echeb but Toran barely glanced at the warrior-mystic, he had no wish to attract the attention of the Warp and no matter how sanctioned they were he was determined to spend as little time as possible in the presence of a Psyker.

Toran took a moment to reflect on the purpose of this momentous gathering, the Storm Heralds were being visited by emissaries of another Chapter: the Smoke-Jaguars. They were visiting to pay respects as they passed, for encounters between Astartes Chapters had a lamentable history of tension and bloodshed. Space Marines technically had the right to go where they will but Astartes were notoriously prickly about what they considered 'their' domains, so the custom had evolved that when operating near to another Chapter's home newcomers would first pay their respects. The visitor would pretend that they needed permission to go wherever they hell they pleased and the host would pretend that their consent made the slightest bit of difference: it wasn't an ideal system but it generally kept bloodshed to a minimum.

Toran was exhilarated by the coming encounter, in a century of service he had never laid eyes upon Space Marines of another order and he could not help wondering how strange these foreigners would appear. He knew the Smoke-Jaguars were a later successor of the Raven Guard, children of the Primarch Corax and they hailed from the jungle world of Copan XII but other than that the records were scant for encounters between the two Chapters had been few and far between. Toran wondered if these visitors would bear the genetic idiosyncrasies said to define the other bloodlines, would they bear great fangs like the Space Wolves or charcoal skin like the Salamanders? He wondered if their faces would be filled with hauntingly beautiful sorrow like the Blood Angels or be cold and emotionless like the Iron Hands, perhaps they would even be plagued with more horrific traits like those said to afflict the Black Dragons.

He was shaken from his musings by the blare of horns at the far end of the chamber and he spied a pair of Honour Guards marching in with power axes raised ceremonially; Toran gripped his chair in eagerness as he saw more warriors following them into great hall. His elation faded somewhat as he saw the visitors, ten Space Marines in plain power armour holding unloaded bolters in parade formation: a basic Tactical squad.

They seemed to favour Mark VI plate though there were a couple boasting Mark VII gear; their colours were a dark, gravely brown on their legs that slowly faded to black as it rose to meet their torsos while their arms and pauldrons were a smokey grey shade. Their Chapter badge was a leaping feline predator in profile with claws and fangs exposed and the only physical difference between them and the Storm Heralds was that they were uniformly pale skinned with short black hair and dark eyes. Their plate was curiously bare and lacked embellishments, honour badges or personal heraldry, in fact there was nothing about them that glistened or gleamed and even the metal of their bolters was dulled. Toran wondered how they would fare against one of his own squads and proudly decided that the Storm Heralds would prove more than a match for these warriors.

His confidence was shaken however by the emergence of one last visitor, this one covered in adornments and strange knotwork patterns, he had an open book pinned on one shoulder plate and many scrolls hung from his belt. His armour was mostly coloured as a Smoke-Jaguar's but his right arm and shoulder were the deepest shade of blue, he carried a thick staff topped with a ram's skull and over his pale head arched a psychic hood: the Smoke-Jaguars had sent a Librarian. Toran gripped his chair fiercely at the sight as the visitors parade marched forwards, he had been uncomfortable in the presence of one psyker but to be in the same room as two made his skin crawl. Still these were honoured guests and it was the Chapter Master's decision whether to welcome or dismiss them so Toran held his tongue.

Swiftly the Smoke-Jaguars approached then stopped as Gorgall spoke loudly, "Greetings cousins, in the name of Him on Terra I welcome you into our hearths and halls." The Librarian bowed low and spoke stiffly in a curious lisping accent, "Light of the Dawn upon you, I am Shade-Seer Imix K'awiil and in the name of the Sun-Emperor I come to renew our brotherhood."

Gorgall nodded respectfully and said, "Your coming is most fortuitous but I regret that the Storm Heralds have poor fare to offer you, as you may have noticed our Monastery is not looking at its best." Imix's lip twitched as the jest diplomatically broke the ice and he replied deadpan, "Ah yes I had noticed a bit of loose stone on the way up… one more blood debt against those treacherous snakes."

Lessall sat forwards and asked suspiciously, "Then your appearance here is no coincidence, you knew about the recent attack?"

Imix replied confidently, "The stars whispered to our oracles and prophesised the coming of serpents to your shores, our Shade-Lord K'inich Yux bade us come to offer you aid in this blackest of nights."

Now it was Echeb who spoke up to say, "Fine words and yet Copan XII is far from here, either your Epistolaries possess remarkable clairvoyance or you were already in the area."

Imix didn't seem perturbed as he replied, "Indeed, we were pursuing the spoor of the serpents and the trail led us to a nest just within your horizons."

That statement brought gasps from all around, the idea of Traitors lurking so close to a Space Marine homeworld was shocking and Lessall barked, "You claim Traitors base themselves within our protectorates, you offer insult!"

Imix shook his head and said, "No insult was intended, the Traitors are cunning and sly, even constant vigilance is not always enough."

Toran was shocked to find he agreed with the Psyker but still he said, "The Alpha Legion was heavily involved in the attack, if anyone could hide under our noses it would be them, in fact they would delight in it."

Lessall glared at the visitors saying, "You evade the truth, you are concealing your real reason for coming."

Imix's face fell and he said, "Not concealing, surely you know that the Traitors stole the chariot of our beloved Primarch, their sacrilege demands retribution."

Chaplain Wrethan drew in a painful breath and replied, "So you are here to avenge the insult to your gene-sire."

That statement produced nods of understanding for the recent attack had been led by the Shadow of the Emperor, the nigh-mythical flagship of Corvus Corax. Its capture was an affront none of his descendants could ignore and the Storm Heralds understood all too well the need for vengeance, it was something dear to the hearts of every Space Marine. Captain Phalros spoke up to say, "So you have a mission and a potential target location, which begs the question: why did you come here first?"

Now Imix at last looked uncomfortable as he admitted, "Having a target and having the ability to raze it are two different things, we have a Strike Cruiser yet we number but a single squad. I am formally requesting aid to investigate this location and annihilate it should the snakes yet dwell there." Gorgall rubbed his chin in thought for a moment then declared, "Our Chapter is heavily involved in holding back the Tyrannid menace, but this is a threat we cannot ignore. We must consider this matter further, send us your data and we shall review it, if it is sound we shall assign a Company to your flag. Return here in twelve hours, until then my honour guard shall escort you to a barracks where you may enjoy our hospitality, such as it is."

Imix bowed low in respect and turned to follow the Honour Guards out with his Smoke-Jaguars as Toran watched them go. He was glad to be out of the presence of the Psyker but somehow he had a nagging suspicion that he had not seen the last of this, his gut sank as he turned around and realised that Chapter Master Gorgall was staring at him thoughtfully.


	2. Chapter 2

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 2**

Across the rubble and detritus of war Captain Toran walked with brisk determination, his stride appeared confident but his face displayed his displeasure. Everywhere he looked he could see the scars of battle and the piles of debris testifying to the fury of war, even now months later the Fortress Monastery was more wreckage than a functioning base of operations.

The artificers and serf labourers had worked wonders to restore basic utilities and erect new buildings but the devastation was immense and the task before them would take decades to complete. The Captain passed by newly erected buildings and prefab structures that were cropping up around the handful of surviving buildings like weeds, Toran would never admit it but he actually found the plain functionality of the new buildings far more practical than the overblown gilding of the older edifices.

His path swiftly led him to a squat, square barracks that stood out among piles of broken masonry and shattered statues; he marched up to it and entered the plain entranceway. With total confidence he made his way along the passages walking past various cells where initiates were reverently tending to their armour plate or memorising tactical doctrines and deconstructing threat assessments of new Xeno horrors.

These were the brothers of Toran's Demi-Company, they had been thrown together during the recent fighting to form the most unlikely of bands but now they were united by that common bond. New brothers had been transferred to rebuild their ranks and now they numbered just under fifty Space Marines.

Toran had drilled them hard and worked tirelessly to forge a spirit of unity but despite all that they remained raw and untested. All the training in the galaxy could not replace the taste of true battle and the Captain knew his Demi-Company would not truly be one until they had drawn and shed blood together; thankfully that opportunity was now upon them.

The Captain marched briskly onwards until he spied the doors of a tactical centre, he had voxed ahead to summon his senior squad leaders for a briefing and was relieved to see they had obeyed with alacrity. Awaiting their Captain the brothers of his command squad were standing guard outside the tactical chamber, faces he knew as well as the back of his hand.

Toran could see four of them awaiting him, Brothers Persion and the standard bearer Bylan standing proudly on one side and on the other Brother Jediah and the Champion Novak. The Captain strode up to them and called out, "Is everybody inside?"

Persion answered, "All Sergeants present and eager to hear your orders."

"Excellent" said Toran as he made to walk past them but then he paused and glared at Persion, "I trust you will not be listening in this time."

"Who me?" replied Persion with a straight face, "Captain would I do such a thing?"

Toran's lip twitched knowing full well how little Persion thought of petty rules and protocols but he knew he had made his point so he let the matter lie and strode on into the plain room to see a small crowd gathered round a Hololithic table. These were the five Sergeants who led the squads of his Demi-Company, they were each old friends and comrades who had fought beside him on the darkest of days.

He looked at each in turn taking in their measure, first was Sergeant Mylos, he and Toran had a bad history but the fires of war had broken the enmity between them, even though he was a difficult man to like Mylos seemed determined to prove his worth in the Company. Standing next to him was Sergeant Priyar who was an open and approachable soul, it would be easy to mistake that for a lack of grit but in truth he was a ferocious warrior with a keen intellect.

Standing across the table from them was Sergeant Zeax who led a Devastator squad, he was a brutally direct warrior who saw the most efficient path to victory and followed it unerringly regardless of cost. Standing next to him was Sergeant Lorath, the most unlikely member of the gathering; he was a fierce warrior with little patience for speeches or matters of morale and leadership. He was the sort of man who preferred to simply get on with the job with as little preamble as possible and skipped the plaudits afterward, for this reason Toran had appointed him to be an Assault sergeant, a role that fitted him perfectly.

Standing at the head of the table was Furion who led the Command squad, making him Toran's de facto second in command yet he would never push himself forward like that, instead preferring to mentor younger Marines and taking pride in their accomplishments. The last member of the gathering was a new face, Apothecary Memnos who had been assigned to the Company only recently, he seemed a level headed Astartes but he was an outsider in this gathering.

Together these Marines represented the entire fighting force under Toran's command and he was certain they would do him proud. Toran swept into room and everybody snapped straight in respect as their Captain took his place before them, he made them wait a moment then said, "As you were." As the group settled back on their heels he said, "Brothers this is a momentous day, the Chapter Master at last has a mission for our proud Company."

"Are the rumours true?" asked Priyar, "Are we deploying alongside another Chapter?"

Toran nodded and said, "Yes, we are to fight alongside a force from the Smoke-Jaguars, hunting for those who defiled our home."

That statement brought excited mummers from all and Toran said, "I know you have all been agitating for action for some time and at last we have been given our chance to prove our worth but remember that we shall be upholding the honour of the Storm Heralds and I expect every member of the Company to excel."

Zeax spoke up to ask, "What forces are our cousin's committing?"

"One Tactical squad" replied Toran and then he dropped the bombshell, "And a Librarian."

That declaration wiped the smiles off everybody's faces for Librarians were as much feared as respected, despite being utterly dependent upon the abilities of the Psychically gifted the Imperium bred dread and wariness of the Warp-touched into its people as a matter of gospel. To fight alongside a Librarian was to wield a blade with no hilt and even the most rational of Astartes viewed them the same way they would a grenade with no safety catch, to fight alongside one from another Chapter was deeply disturbing.

Thankfully Furion pulled the briefing back on topic by asking the burning question, "So who will be in command of this jaunt?"

Toran breathed out and said, "They brought us the intelligence and have a ship waiting in orbit but we will bring more warriors to the fight. Chapter Master Gorgall has managed to forge an agreement that once we reach the target command will fall to the faction with greatest tactical strength."

"So you mean yourself?" asked Mylos.

"Yes" replied Toran, "I will be given command of the mission; the Smoke-Jaguars will provide intelligence and assistance."

"Best place for them" declared Mylos, "They are the ones better suited to sulking about and lurking under camouflage, we are the ones who will win this fight."

Zeax agreed loudly by saying, "Camouflage is the colour of cowardice!"

Toran wasn't sure he agreed with such sentiments, he could see the tactical advantages of such an approach but thankfully he was spared having to contradict his men as Lorath drove straight to the heart of the matter saying, "What is the target?"

Toran lit the hololith and an image sprang into life over the table, it was essentially an inert rock in space that was utterly barren and bereft of atmosphere yet the blinking lights of deep mine works hinted at the presence of life. Toran looked at the target and declared, "Our target is Clom."

That brought groans from all around and Mylos said, "No, not Clom, there is no glory to be found there."

Furion rebuked him, "Glory is secondary to duty, if we are ordered there then that is where we shall go."

Priyar interjected, "You are aware that Clom sits at the end of an unstable Warp route, it is only accessible for a few months every ten years, if we are delayed then we will be stuck out there for a decade."

Mylos spat, "I suddenly understand why Gorgall selected us for this mission."

"Enough!" barked Toran, "Chapter Master Gorgall has reviewed our cousin's finding and determined there is evidence of Traitor activity on this mining world. The planet is barren and lifeless so the only Imperial presence is confined to the mine works, it would be no difficult matter to establish a covert base anywhere else on the planet."

"How recent is this data?" asked Lorath

Toran had been hoping nobody would ask that question but replied honestly, "Clom is just emerging from its isolation period so the last reports were from ten years ago."

That produce scowls and frowns, such Intel so out of date as to be practically useless and Zeax stated, "That is hopeless, it might as well be from the Sabbat worlds Crusade."

"It is what it is" replied Toran, "We may well find the Traitors long fled or they may have left a supply cache behind or they may well be hundreds of them waiting, we will not know until we look."

"Is there anything we are certain of?" asked Priyar

Toran replied, "One thing we do know for certain is that Clom has no atmosphere outside the atmospheric domes, so stress to your squads the importance of checking their armour's void seals and issue vacuum rated weapons only."

Furion declared ,"Vacuum practice would be the order of the day then."

"Indeed but make sure to schedule cross training with the Smoke-Jaguars too" stated Toran, "We need to know our cousin's character before we meet the enemy and I expect you to astound them with our displays of skill."

Zeax declared, "We will hammer them in the drills."

Toran was glad his Marines were so confident but he glanced at the silent figure of Apothecary Memnos as he said, "Try to leave them with some dignity, you all know our Chapter's relations with the Imperium are strained, for another Chapter to reach out to us right now is an opportunity we must grasp with both hands."

"Pah, Warp cursed diplomacy" spat Lorath, "Leave the politics at home where it belongs and concentrate on the fight before us."

"I never thought I would agree with him but our learned brother is right" declared Furion which drew chuckles from the group.

Toran shook his head and said, "For now concentrate on your drills and tell the squads to expect the unexpected, I suspect this voyage will be full of surprises."


	3. Chapter 3

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter3**

Under the light of an O-type blue star a planet turned in space, it was little more than an utterly barren rock, the harsh radiation of its sun long since scouring it bare of any traces of atmosphere. The planet was dull and remarkable in almost every way save one, its vast deposits of Adamantium; it was for this reason that humanity had braved the perilous cold of space and deadly radiation of the sun, even traversing an unstable Warp route to get here.

This world had only recently become accessible on its long cycle and so the great merchant ships of the Imperium had come to fight for space over the mining colonies, the Giga-tonne transports were busy unloading foodstuff and perishable cargoes and in return taking aboard ingots of priceless metal. Shuttles flew in a blizzard of activity, loading and unloading their goods as Administratum clerks tallied everything, taking Terra's due tithe from every transaction.

Moving through the layers of transports was a sleek deadly predator of the void, headed directly for its goal as the Mass-conveyors lumbered out of its path like a wolf among herds of cattle, moving with the inexorable certainty that came with knowing it was the deadliest thing in sight. Its thick armour was darkly tinted and even the energy output of its plasma engines was somehow dulled and far harder to detect than a ship of its displacement had any right to be, it was a Strike Cruiser of the Smoke-Jaguars and it name was 'Silent Hunter'.

Pacing along its busy decks were a pair of Space Marines but not of the Smoke-Jaguars, they were in Storm Herald blue and they marched proudly past quiet ranks of serfs who eyed the intruders with suspicion. One of them was bedecked in gold ranks chains with a double headed eagle rising above his head and glorious scabbard on his hip, the other was a giant even for an Astartes and boasted the nigh-mythical Mark III 'Iron' armour, they were Captain Toran and Sergeant Furion.

As they walked Toran was saying, "So tell me what do you make of this ship?"

Furion answered, "She is certainly sleek and swift, the Warp voyage was untroubled but somehow she just does not feel like home."

Toran nodded and said, "I know what you mean, everything is similar but subtly different to one of ours, much like our hosts."

Furion commented "Exactly, I won't fault their combat skills for they are fierce indeed but apart from that they are sullen and withdrawn, not exactly evasive but intensely private… even with each other."

Toran agreed with the sentiment for the journey would have been quiet had he not been busy drilling his own squads, he changed the subject saying, "What is your assessment of our own performance?"

Furion shook his head and replied, "Raw and rough, the squads have yet to come together in true brotherhood, that kind of bond can only be forged in the heat of genuine combat."

Toran glanced at the passing serfs then said quietly, "Speaking of which, I understand there was an altercation in the mess yesterday."

"Ah" replied Furion, "I had intended to keep that private but yes two brothers nearly came to blows over the midday repast."

"How could such a thing happen?" asked Toran disturbed by the lack of discipline implied.

Furion drew in a breath, "It seems brother Grethan of Lorath's squad was not pleased by his assignment to our company, if you recall he was transferred from Fifth Company when we were rebuilt. He was disparaging our formation and you personally in the mess; Brother Bylan took great exception to the slur against your name and tried to throw a punch."

"You stopped it?" asked Toran

"I did" replied Furion "Then I assigned both of them to three days of transcribing passages from the Codex Astartes, I told them to focus upon the tenants of respect and discipline, that should put an end to it."

Toran sighed for despite his best efforts tensions in the company had endured, he said "This is disgraceful, they shamed the Company before our hosts, we must break this idea of an old guard and new bloods in our ranks."

Furion replied, "Five months is too long for an Astartes to be away from war, the hunger for battle is taxing even the best of us and fraying our discipline, this won't end until we have tasted combat."

Toran nodded in agreement and said, "Keep them busy then and I will find us a good war."

Furion saluted with the sign of the Aquilla and made to march away but before he could leave Toran held up a hand as some strange tingling made him pause. He could not say why but the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, it was the faintest of sensations but it was a feeling he had only experienced before when he was in danger.

As Furion stood bemused Toran scanned the deck plating paying meticulous attention to detail and straining his ears for any hint of something untoward but there was nothing, his eyes and ears told him all was well but still he could not shake the sensation of someone lurking just out of sight. He closed his organic eye and let his augmetic one begin sweeping the visual spectrums and beyond, strange colours and whirling blotches played out in his vision and then he saw something, in the infrared range there was the faintest heat trace where there should be nothing.

Toran sighed and opened his eye declaring, "You might as well come out, I know you are there."

From right behind him a voice said, "Well done my friend, few indeed could have sensed my approach."

Toran and Furion turned round and were not shocked to see Shadow-Seer Imix standing right behind them, an eight foot warrior in thick plate armour emerging from nowhere like the sun from behind a cloud. He was gripping his ram topped skull and his face was angular and pale with his scalp shaved bald so his implant sockets could be connected to his psychic hood.

The Captain drew in a breath and said, "How much did you hear?"

Imix tilted his head and said, "You sound concerned but worry not, all brothers have their squabbles, this is hardly a revelation."

Toran had not seen Imix since they had departed; the Librarian had locked himself away meditating in his sanctum, a situation the Captain would have been more than happy to see continued. Still Imix was his host and he did not want to offend him so he demurred, "This is a fine ship you have here."

Imix ignored the deflection and stared at him saying, "You do not like Librarians, do you?"

Toran started in horror and could not help but blurt out, "Did you read my mind?"

Imix replied, "No, just your face."

Toran felt very awkward as he realised how obvious his wariness had been and he said, "I have offended you."

Imix did not seem perturbed and stated, "No if anything you are not wary enough, the first and last lesson is always that the Warp is poison and all that flows from it is tainted, we have seen too many times what happens to those who think that power comes without consequences."

Toran was taken aback and said, "I thought you would be saying that we should trust you, that you had mastered your power."

Imix's face twitched with a grimace of long suppressed pain and said, "The first mistake is to think that the Warp can be mastered for it cannot be: the Warp mocks control and order. It is filled with monsters that no man should ever have to face but yet someone must face them or all will be lost."

Toran was surprised by the frank statement and did not know how to respond but Furion stepped in saying, "You are not what I expected."

"Neither are you" replied Imix, "When we were sent to seek your aid I expected to be spending the whole voyage listening to your preaching about the divinity of the God-Emperor yet none of you have breathed so much as a word on the matter."

Toran's heart sank as he realised that his Chapter's reputation had spread far and wide, the issue of the proselytising was a contentious matter both inside the Chapter and without so he settled for saying, "Reverence for the Emperor has its place but this is not it."

Imix's eyes narrowed and he stared intently at Toran for a long moment then he said, "Interesting your words say one thing but you tone says another… this subject cause you pain to speak about."

Toran was disturbed by the Librarian's insight and said, "We fight for Terra and the Emperor that should be enough."

"But what do you believe?" queried Imix

Furion answered boldly, "We believe that there is yet Order in this universe and the Emperor is the greatest embodiment of it, there is no more noble calling than to serve and death in pursuit of a worthy goal is not be feared."

Imix thought upon this and said, "So you do believe in a higher power but you do not think it will step down from on high and bestow miracles if you flagellant yourselves enough."

Furion declared, "The Emperor has given us strength to stand and weapons to bring down justice upon his enemies, let that be miracles enough."

Imix nodded in understanding and declared, "We have similar beliefs, the Axioms of Corax teach that Force without Justice is Tyranny and our Chapter exists for the sole purpose of hunting down tyrants, monsters and Traitors."

Toran was glad the conversation had moved on and said, "Will your squad fight beside us?"

Imix answered, "We follow in the footsteps of Corax, nothing keeps us from our prey."

Furion pressed him by saying "But will you stand by our agreement, will you respect the Captain's command?"

Imix replied, "These are your protectorates and you have the right of first blood for your loss, we shall stand by our word."

Toran was relieved to hear that and said, "Then the Storm Heralds will owe you an honour debt."

Imix smiled savagely and said, "Give us an opportunity to shed the blood of mankind's enemies and we shall consider all debts paid."

Furion took the opportunity to probe for details by saying, "Our information on the target is scant, do you have any visions to guide us?"

Imix tutted and said, "Mystic foresight usually works best when backed up by hard facts, I would recommend starting by speaking to local Imperial authorities, they may have leads we can pursue."

Toran nodded and said, "In that case we should contact the Imperial Governor…"

Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden blaring of alarms and the flashes of hazard lights, as frantic crewmen began running past Imix opened his vox and contacted the bridge calling, "Report status!"

Toran waited impatiently as Imix listened to his bridge crew, he itched to know what was going on but this was not his ship and he had to respect the Smoke-Jaguar's jurisdiction. In a minute the Librarian declared, "There is an alert from low orbit, a Mass-Conveyor has come under attack, it has been boarded."

"Is it the Traitors?" asked Toran eagerly.

"No" replied Imix with a surprised tone in his voice, "It is the Dark Eldar."


	4. Chapter 4

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 4**

Inside the Mass-Conveyor lines of armoured Space Marines raced, holding their weapons tightly as they ran in expectation of meeting the foe at any second. At the head of the formation ran Captain Toran holding the Sword of Thiel before him as he moved, he had not realised until this moment how much he had missed the rush of combat and he was as eager as any to meet the enemy and shed blood.

Shade-Seer Imix had declared he would lead his squad into battle and nothing would stop him, Toran however had surprised him by saying in return that he intended to lead the strike personally. The Storm Heralds might have a reputation for preaching over action but the Captain was determined to prove that they remained Space Marines and letting the foes of the Emperor live was not in their nature.

The Company had crossed over in a pair of Thunderhawks and then instantly split up, Sergeant Furion taking the Command squad aft with Mylos' and Zeax's squads in tow while the Captain led Lorath's and Priyar's squads towards the bridge along with the Smoke-Jaguars and Imix. Apothecary Memnos had accompanied the Captain and Toran was certain that his special skills would be needed before this day was out. As they ran they passed compartments filled with the bodies of crewmen and defeated armsmen and yet few were actually dead, Toran could see many of them yet breathed but were unconscious and their positioning announced that they had fallen in paroxysms of agonised torment. The sight made Toran growl, "This is a slave raid, they want their victims alive."

"Why would they want that?" asked Priyar hefting his power maul which was engraved with litanies of detestation.

"Do not try to understand the Eldar, they are a random force in the universe, simply concentrate on killing them" spat Lorath flexing his twin lightning claws as his squad revved their chainswords.

Apothecary Memnos addressed Imix and said,"Any words of wisdom for us?"

Imix replied frankly, "The art to fighting the Eldar is to be artless, do not try to match them for skill or speed but instead favour your strength and bulk and trust to your armour to keep you safe."

Toran tried to overcome his disquiet at the Librarian's presence and concentrate on the wisdom of his words, he was about to ask how the Xeno could have got on board undetected but before he could speak the squads broke into the next compartment and were confronted by a score of Xenos.

Time froze for an instant and Toran instantly took in the sight of the foe, they were clad in baroque armour that that was covered in spikes and serrated edges but it was so finely wrought that they never cut themselves and it made any human armour seem crude in comparison. Their helms were tall and had top knots of fine hair cascading from the peak while their face plates had sneering faces and slanting eye lenses that gave them a cruel sadistic appearance. Measured by human standards they were all tall and eerily thin but there was something distinctly inhuman about them, a fluidity and grace to their every gesture that no man could match even should he have a lifetime to practice.

The Space Marines raised their weapons with fingers already tightening on triggers, their reaction time was astonishing but the Eldar were still faster. Before the first bolter could fire a hail of microscopic crystal splinters was flying at them, dousing the Marines in razor sharp shards. Thick ceramite deflected most of it but still tiny fragments found gaps in between plates and tore into the softer fibre bundle musculature.

Toran hissed as a shard ripped into his elbow joint and the sudden spike of pain told him it was laced with potent neurotoxins, his arm trembled involuntarily but he chanted, "Pain is an illusion of the mind" as he compartmentalised the agony. Sporadic return bolts were flying now but the Eldar danced between the blasts, wherever the rounds were somehow the Xeno were not and impossibly they dodged every shot. Toran knew individual efforts were useless and he roared, "Brothers as one, Volley Fire!"

Instantly the Marines switched strategy, taking a moment to align their aim then letting loose a thunderous barrage of shots. Bolts flew in a horizontal blizzard to create a killing wave of destruction, the Eldar dodged and weaved about but there were too many rounds to evade and this time Xeno bodies were blown apart one by one. A human force would have been annihilated by the salvo but the Eldar moved with surpassing grace and far fewer fell than had any right to, three squads of Space Marines shooting rapid fire yet only half a dozen Xenos were killed.

Yet the action was not in vain, the Eldar's fire relented for a moment and Imix seized the opportunity to open his mind to the Warp and let a trickle of its potential leak into reality. His psychic hood flared brightly as he shaped the power with his thoughts then he opened his mouth and let slip an unearthly roar at the Eldar. It was more than a shriek of rage for it contained all the savagery of a jungle carnivore; it was the essence of the predator at the moment of the pounce and the vicious barbarity of the bloody kill channeled into one horrific burst. Even standing well away Toran was filled with the sensation of being prey at the very moment it spied the oncoming hunter, the shock of seeing the glinting fangs and razor claws coming forward in a blur of ferocity and hunger.

The effects of the psychic shriek on the Astartes was disquieting but the effect on the Eldar was stunning, they shook and trembled in horror, grabbing at their helms as their minds were overloaded by raw psychic potential. One of them even fell to its knees as thin alien blood poured from its lens sockets, the rest were left gasping and shaking in disbelief at the power a mere Mon-Keigh had produced.

Toran seized the moment of confusion and yelled, "Charge!"

Instantly the assembled Space Marines leapt forwards as they raised combat blades and Chainswords, they ran hard and covered the distance in moments, the Storm Heralds advancing in lockstep as a machine of war while the Smoke-Jaguars leapt forwards like felines on the hunt. The squads raced across the gap unopposed and hit the Xeno to unleashed their wrath but the Eldar recovered faster than such frail beings had any right to and met the charge with contemptuous disdain.

Toran found himself confronted by an Eldar that flipped and pirouetted around him with obscene grace, evading his blows with effortless ease even as his armour flooded his bloodstream with combat stims. He swung his relic blade about in a wide sweep but the Xeno bent backwards, doubling over in a way that would have snapped a human spine and the blade passed over leaving it unharmed. The Eldar did a backflip and its foot shot up catching the Captain under the chin snapping his head back, then the Xeno laughed contemptuously as it cartwheeled away.

Toran followed furiously in its wake as he hacked and slashed about yet he hit nothing but air and after every stoke the Xeno darted in to rip jagged knives across his plate. He felt his loathing for the Xeno growing with every second, its laughter offended his ears and its vile form mocked the Manifest Perfection of the human form. Toran had never felt so clumsy and so slow as he chased the Eldar and his armour became nicked and scored as its knives sought to penetrate the plate. Toran snarled in anger and abandoned his attempts to match the Eldar's sword play, instead he bunched up and leapt forwards, barrelling forwards like a freight car to slam his chestplate right into the alien's face. The Eldar fell backwards in stunned amazement at the sheer brutality of the attack and Toran seized the moment of distraction to hammer his blade around, there was nothing elegant or graceful about the blow but it caught the alien in the side and ripped it apart in a shower of gore.

Toran took a moment to assess the battle, seeing hacking and slashing marines and Eldar everywhere as they sought each other's doom. The Captain spied Sergeant Lorath duelling an Eldar with wide sweeps of his Lightning claws; he was not attacking the alien directly but instead cleaving the air apart, slicing it into sections and denying his foe space to move. The Eldar had nowhere to retreat to and in seconds was caught across the chest by four energy sheathed blades that ripped its torso open and spilled its guts to the deck.

Meanwhile Priyar seemed to be having the best results of anybody, his power maul releasing concussive blasts that staggered Eldar and left them helpless to the following Astartes who wielded gladius' and chainswords. While elsewhere Apothecary Memnos had an alien in a headlock, holding it still while he drove his Narthecium's drill bit down hard, penetrating the helm to burrow into the skull and brain case beneath.

Toran looked round and saw the battle was almost over but Imix and another Smoke-Jaguar were duelling one last Eldar, this one in ornate armour and holding a black blade that dripped vile fluids, it must be the Sybarite. The pair of Space Marines fought like lions but the Sybarite dodged their blows and lashed out in return, its black sword hitting the Smoke-Jaguar warrior in the stomach and tearing the ceramite apart allowing the tip to disembowel the Astartes.

The Smoke-Jaguar fell as Imix swept about with his Force Staff, the Eldar dodged the clumsy blow but failed to realise it had made a mistake. Its backwards step took it right at Toran who immediately thrust his sword at its back; the Eldar must have sensed something at the last instant for it twisted aside meaning it only took a shallow cut to the shoulder instead of a killing blow. Still the impact threw it off balance for a moment and Imix seized the opportunity to slam his Force Staff down upon the Eldar's head, strange lights played along the staff and there was a distant wail as the bonds binding its soul to its body were sundered. The Sybarite fell down dead and Imix roared, "Victoriam Venandi!"

Silence fell and Toran saw that the Space Marines had won this fight, several Astartes were picking themselves up from the deck with bleeding wounds already clotting but the fallen Smoke-Jaguar did not. The Captain was pushed to one side as Apothecary Memnos barrelled past and dove to the fallen warrior; he expertly removed the chestplate and began burrowing into the wound with his Narthecium, clamping spurting arteries and stapling organs together.

Toran knew they needed to press on and said, "Apothecary we must continue the attack."

Memnos replied, "The Xeno blade was coated with some vile anti-coagulant, I must close these bleeds manually, you go on while I stay here."

Toran knew it pointless arguing, the Apothecary's duty was a sacred trust and leaving a Smoke-Jaguar to die would destroy the bond between cousins. Imix seemed to understand for he said, "We cannot linger, I can hear the Xeno's filthy minds and many are headed for the bridge."

"Very well" declared Toran, "Memnos will stay, we shall press onward and finish this."


	5. Chapter 5

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 5**

Into the depths of the Mass-Conveyor Captain Toran led his party of Space Marines, they were advancing rapidly and passing many inert bodies as they proceeded from compartment to compartment yet the number of victims was dropping rapidly with each hatch they passed. Toran suspected it was not due to any lessening of resistance from the crew but rather that the victims had already been stolen away to an uncertain fate.

As they ran he was talking on the vox ordering, "Second party, report status!"

A distant tinny voice responded, it was brother Persion and the communication specialist said, "Intermittent contact with the Eldar but resistance is light and we have sustained no casualties as yet, the Xeno are ignoring vital areas of the ship and instead are targeting the crew."

Toran replied, "This is a raiding party they seek slaves not conquest, continue your search and destroy operations and keep me informed." Then he cut the link.

From behind Priyar asked, "How many crewmen does a Mass-Conveyor carry?"

As they ducked under the hatch into the next section Toran answered, "Not nearly as many as a proper warship, they are mostly crewed by servitors so perhaps as few as ten thousand men."

Priyar frowned and said, "Seems a low number for Eldar Corsairs to bother with."

Toran agreed and declared, "Perhaps they saw a target of opportunity with all these ships herded together or perhaps they have more inscrutable motives, there is no way to tell. What matters is that the Xeno are here and that we shall punish them for their sin of existence."

Before anyone could respond to the sentiment the whole party was brought to a halt as Imix suddenly stopped in his tracks, everybody instantly falling into defensive formation with bolters raised. Imix waved ahead to the next hatch which loomed open invitingly but he said, "Enemies lurk beyond, two of them waiting in ambush."

Priyar said incredulously, "You can perceive them from here?"

Imix snorted and said, "Their minds stink so vilely it would be harder not to catch their scent."

Toran rubbed his chin and said thoughtfully, "Only two… they must be a rear-guard left to watch for an attack from behind, we have to take them out before they can alert the rest that we are coming."

Lorath replied, "We should take them hard and fast, gut them before they can get a word out."

"No" rebuked Imix, "You will stay here, I shall take this prey myself."

Lorath glared and said, "You do not command here!"

Imix breathed out slowly and said, "You all walk too loudly, you breathe too roughly, your anger shakes the ground beneath my feet and if I can feel you then the enemy can too."

Despite their earlier battle Toran still felt revulsion at the very idea of calling upon the Warp but the Librarian was right and he would be a fool not to use every asset at his disposal, he suppressed his instincts and said, "Let him try."

Imix nodded in gratitude then he began to chant arcane syllables in a soft low voice, holding his staff before him and gripping it as he closed his eyes, a space swiftly cleared around him and even the Smoke-Jaguars backed off as the Shade-Seer drew upon his psychic abilities. Toran felt his skin crawling with the knowledge that the Psyker was opening his mind to the Warp, letting its tainted energies flow into his body. The Captain found himself wondering how much power would be too much and how anyone could tell if Imix were to be possessed by some existential horror from the nightmare realm.

This was the fundamental paradox of the Imperium for it was built upon the psychic abilities of Navigators and Astropaths yet despised the Warp utterly, it was blatant hypocrisy of the worst order but the Emperor himself had ordered it to be so. Toran was well aware that the Imperium failed to live up the Emperor's original vision but he was sworn to defend it regardless, to wish it were otherwise was futile and to hate it for being so was heresy.

Toran started in surprise as he realised that he was no longer looking at Imix and had almost forgotten the Shade-Seer was there, he glanced back and saw the Librarian still stood in the same spot and was continuing to chant quietly. Toran's eye slipped off the Shade-Seer and passed over the gathered squads, seeing that everybody was also looking away somehow always avoiding the spot where Imix stood.

Toran's mind began to wonder about squad formations and training regimes making him snarl as he realised his own mind was tricking him, trying to convince him that Imix was not there. With sheer force of will he compelled himself to concentrate and he stared at the Shade-Seer in a stubborn refusal to be tricked, his organic eye watered and twitched so he clamped his palm over it and looked solely with his augmetic one. At last the image before him stabilised and he could see Imix clearly, the Librarian had stopped chanting and opened his eyes, he frowned when he spied Toran looking at him but everyone else was looking elsewhere which seemed to satisfy him.

Toran stared as the Librarian began to move out and Marines made way for him, it was curious thing to watch for they did not step out of the way but merely swayed aside as if moving naturally. A path formed before the Librarian and closed again behind him like waves washing over a beach and wiping away all trace he was there.

Toran followed Imix with his augmetic eye as the Librarian walked confidently forwards and disappeared into the dark hatch, then all the Captain could do was wait for the signal. Two minutes passed then a click on the vox alerted Toran that the deed was done, the Captain stepped out and looked ahead to see that Imix stood over the slain bodies of the Eldar rear guard wiping thin Xeno blood from a short knife.

Part of Toran's mind railed against the unnatural deed he had just witnessed, he had experienced too many similar acts by followers of the Dark Gods to be comfortable with such displays but he suppressed it. The Librarian had performed his ordained function so Toran forced himself to nod respectfully then quickly as he thought he could get away with he turned away to wave the squads onwards.

They moved swiftly now and hurried onwards, passing signs of fighting with ever increasing frequency and then they heard the sounds of battle from straight ahead, the Space marines gripped their weapons tightly and ran forwards at full pace seeing a wall of dark armour emerge before them.

They were right outside the doors to the bridge now and before the sealed hatches a last line of desperate men was battling a surging mob of lithe armoured beings; Toran assessed the situation in an instant and saw that the line could not hold unless they intervened.

With a roar of fury the Space Marines charged forwards, swinging blades and chainswords right at the Xeno's backs, the assault should have caught them unawares but the Eldar spun about gracefully and met the charge with their own blades raised. The melee was joined and everywhere were hacking stabbing enemies yet now the press of the fight worked against the Eldar, hemming them in and denying them their advantages in speed and agility.

The Space Marines pressed in harder, creating a suffocating crush where size, weight and strength were the only variables that mattered. Now the Astartes held all the advantages and they exploited it ruthlessly even as the ship's crew rallied at the sight of the Space Marines and threw themselves into the fight once more.

Toran was in the centre of the melee lashing out at Xenos all around him when the crowds parted allowing him to see a single figure towering over the lesser Eldar, this one wore gilded armour that gleamed like it was covered in wet blood and had its face bared to reveal a cruel superior expression. The Eldar had a long thin blade in one hand and a spiked energised whip in the other that flickered to and fro, any man the whip brushed fell down shrieking in agony as the Eldar moved through the melee like a Lord assessing his herds of cattle.

Even as Toran watched he saw one of his Space Marine leap at the Eldar lord, it was brother Cortho of Priyar's squad and he swung wildly at the Xeno as he roared his righteous hatred. The Eldar saw him coming and swayed back languidly so that the blade missed by a hairsbreadth, then it flicked its whip outwards to graze the Astartes' armour.

Cortho convulsed for a second as his armour's spirit was overloaded by contradictory impulses and that was all the Eldar Lord needed to act, it jumped up and set one foot on the Space Marines' knee pad elevating it just enough to plunge its long blade down and spear the Storm Herald right in the eye lens. The blade effortlessly passed through the lens piercing the skull and erupting out the other side leaving no doubt that Cortho was dead, all was still for a moment and then the Eldar back flipped away as the Astartes toppled over.

Toran roared in anger and began battering his way through the throng in an attempt to face the murderer of his kin bellowing, "Face me Xeno filth!"

The Eldar glanced up sneering in contempt as it decried, "Primitive Mon-keigh, how dare you seek to place your coarse hands upon your betters!"

Toran was still hacking his way forwards but yelled, "The Emperor commands that my blade shall end you!"

The Eldar stood still for a moment then laughed derisively as it called, "You call that cudgel a blade, it shall taste nothing today but we shall meet again, know that it will be Archon Athra J'rect of the Impaled Heart Kabal who shall end your short pointless life!"

With those words the Archon snatched a device from its belt and threw it to the floor, a thick cloud of black choking mist erupted forth making men fell to their knees retching and throwing up blood. Toran felt his multi-lung burning as it clamped his larynx shut and fought to neutralise the poisonous gas, even so his vision was obscured and he could see nothing but blackness, even auto-senses seemed confused and disorientated.

Toran expected an attack but nothing happened and after a few seconds the mist cleared revealing that the Eldar had vanished, all of them. Toran looked about and saw only human men dying as their lungs burned and the forms of his brothers picking themselves up from the ground; all save one.

Toran growled in anger and even though he knew it was pointless he ordered, "Spread out, sweep the ship and find where they have gone and someone raise Memnos, tell him a brother had fallen and he must collect the Chapter's Due."

As the squads broke up and searched for their foes the Captain looked at Cortho's body said, "Brother you shall be avenged."


	6. Chapter 6

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 6**

The surface of Clom was barren and bereft of life, a cratered moonscape reminiscent of the great Imperial bastion Luna and equally deadly to the incautious, despite that humanity had come for the precious ore sheltering under great environmental domes and magnetic anti-radiation shielding. Those few who had to venture out from the colonies did so with great haste for even thick exo-armour provided limited protection from the intense solar radiation.

Dropping towards the largest collection of environmental domes were a pair of Thunderhawk gunships, they flew with their rocket engines fighting the pull of gravity for here there was no atmosphere to allow for conventional flight. This was an intensely fuel intensive form of flying but there was no other way to reach the colony, not unless they used the Teleportarium which nobody on board would contemplate unless the situation was truly dire.

Inside the leading gunship Captain Toran was secured into a restraint cage along with his command squad, with him was Priyar's squad and the Smoke-Jaguars led by Imix. They were proceeding down to the surface in order to contact the Imperial authorities, following the Xeno attack there had been no trace of the Eldar and the Space Marines needed more information to pursue their mission here.

Standing to Toran's right was the Company Champion Novak who was drumming his fingers on the restraint cage then declared insolently, "Clom: what an eyesore, it's the armpit of the galaxy."

Persion had long been accustomed to his brother's glib attitude and retorted, "Does it offend your delicate sensibilities?"

Novak stated, "What sort of glory can I earn in this dreary hole?"

Persion's grin under his helm was obvious from the tone of his voice as he said, "I am sure there will be plenty of vermin to put down, I can see it now: Novak the glorious Rat-slayer."

As Novak bristled Jediah spoke up to say, "Will you two forget about glory, I just want more kills, Eldar blood is too thin and watery to satisfy my blade."

Toran tuned out their banter for he was long accustomed to their irreverent wit; his Command Squad had previously been destined for life in the Reserve Companies until events had propelled them to high office. The Captain knew that for various reasons the captains of the Battle Companies had rejected each of them but now they were here and he knew they would fight as hard as any decorated hero.

He was distracted from his musing as Furion leaned over and said, "Something the matter Captain?"

Toran replied, "The mission disturbs me, we were not expecting the Eldar's presence and to lose a brother so soon into the battle bodes ill."

Furion nodded but said, "Casualties are inevitable you cannot command effectively if you let such matters burden you down."

"Indeed" said Toran respecting his wise brother's council, "But we are fighting in the dark; we must contact the Planetary Governor and acquire more information."

Imix leaned over from the over side of the troop bay and said, "This whole city stinks of fear, the Xeno raid has stirred their nightmares, the minds of the people resonate with panic."

That statement shut everybody up, the Psyker's declaration putting a stop to the banter as nobody wanted to risk provoking another Warp fuelled pronouncement so they flew on in silence as they made their final approach until the Thunderhawk slowed and began a vertical descent, Toran used his command overrides to link into the gunships' machine spirit and spied upon the external pict feed as the craft sank into the ground. Massive metal doors flashed past and then they were plunging deep under the rocky surface down a long bored shaft towards a painted landing area, the gunships slowly settled onto hard surface and then engines cut out.

As the distinct hiss of repressurisation hit the hull the Space Marines were already in motion, not needing to be ordered as they dove out the ramp and instinctively took up a defensive formation around the transports. They found themselves in a large rock cavern filled with equipment as gear that form ice upon it as the air touched the space cooled metal; they spread out in a defensive circle and awaited signs of activity.

For long minutes there was only the sound of air rushing in then finally the bay was ready for men in dirty overalls to emerge and run forwards bearing fuel hoses and load lifters, they pulled up short when they saw a ring of armed Space Marines glaring at them and shrank back in fear. Toran sighed for the size and power of Astartes often intimidated mortal men and could prove an obstacle for communication, the Captain scanned the milling crowd looking for someone in authority but there was no one to be seen, from behind him Persion commented, "Did the Governor forget we were coming?"

Before he could answer there was the familiar roar of Rhino engines and a trio of troop carriers burst into the bay, scattering ground crew before them as they rumbled forwards. Toran instantly assessed the vehicles and saw the expanded troop bays and firing slits unique to the Repressor variant, if that was not enough the proud Imperial icons and weighted scales declared the allegiance of these particular machines.

As the Rhino ground to a halt Jediah said, "Adeptus Arbites."

Persion commented, "The Lord Governor sent the judges as escorts, the mad fool is arrogant enough to insult us."

Toran said nothing as the rear ramp of the middle vehicle lowered itself to the ground and from it strode a single man, he was stout and well-muscled for mortal with a bristling moustache that stood out beneath his black visor and he did not seem in the least bit intimidated by the lines of bolters pointing right at him. He strode confidently up to the Space Marines and barked, "Right, who's in charge here?"

Toran raised an eyebrow, his rank should be obvious from his heraldry but protocol must be respected so he said, "I am Captain Toran, commanding this expedition and you are?"

The man thrust an open hand forwards declaring, "First Marshall Maximillian and I am damn glad to see you."

Toran extended his palm and the man surprised him by grabbing him wrist to wrist in a warrior's greeting, the Space Marines' hand engulfed the forearm of the Arbites officer but he did not seem intimidated at all. The man refused to be cowed and declared, "The Governor wanted to send a luxury ground cruiser for you but the fool didn't realise that your armour's weight would snap the suspension bars, so I told him these Rhinos would be more familiar to you."

The man was gruff, straight to the point and Toran found himself warming to the officer, he was clearly expected to board the APC so he nodded and Furion stepped out, before he was a Sergeant he had been a demolitions expert and he meticulously swept the Transport. Maximillian didn't seem perturbed as he watched the giant Space Marine checking every inch and said, "Never board a vehicle until it's been checked for explosives eh, I have a similar policy when in the sink-slums."

After a minute Furion emerged and nodded to indicate all was clear, Toran declared to everybody, "Everybody prepare for deployment, command squad and Imix with me, Priyar you are in charge until I get back."

With that the seven Space Marines boarded the repressor followed by the First Arbiter and the Rhino set off in convoy before entering a tunnel that led off towards the colony, Toran looked about the vehicle and found the Repressor variant to be curiously different to his Chapter's own machines. The interior was clearly set up for mortals with racks of shotguns in place of bolters and restraint devices for captured offenders, the vision slits allowed them to see out not there was much to see.

Toran stood effortlessly in the vibrating vehicle and said to the First Marshall, "You do not seem cowed by Astartes; I take it you have seen our kind before?"

Maximillian replied proudly, "Fought beside the Imperial Fists during the suppression of the Tiguan revolts when I won my officers bars. Best damn soldiers in the galaxy, next to the Arbites of course, that's why I was so relieved to see you, it's about time Terra sent someone to sort this mess out."

Toran was intrigued and said, "Then the situation here is more volatile than we were led to believe?"

First Marshall Maximillian spat on the deck and said, "Terra classifies this as a mining world but in terms of population density it is closer to a Hive World, fifty million people living a space designed for no more than ten million. Contact with the Imperium is limited to the once a decade trade ships and everyone here knows this place is only one missed shipment away from total collapse."

Novak asked, "How do you keep everyone fed?"

Maximillian replied, "The Governor's ancestors converted mined out shafts into vast hydroponic farms, they are crude but they produce enough basic fare to keep everyone fed if we ration carefully, it's the one hold the Lord Governor has over the Mining Guilds."

"That does not sound a very stable or efficient form of government" commented Persion.

Maximillian scowled and said, "The Governor is concerned only with making his mark in history, the Mining Guilds care for nothing but profit and the other Imperial Institutions keep to their own affairs, the Arbites are the only force keeping this whole powder keg from exploding."

"Interesting as this is it does not impact our mission" said Toran, "We are not here to solve your social problems, we are here to seek out the enemies of the Emperor."

Maximillian nodded and said, "I am glad to hear that, we've suffered Eldar raids for decades now but we've never seen any trace of where they come from, they attack outlying outposts and isolated expeditions then just disappear without a trace."

Toran said grimly, "We are not here for the Eldar, we are here to seek the presence of Arch-Heretics."

"Terra didn't send you to chastise the Xeno?" said Maximillian as his face fell "I dispatched Astropathic messages with the highest seals of the Adeptus Arbites ten years ago imploring the Imperium for aid."

Persion looked at him and said, "If you have then they are sitting in scribe's inbox waiting to be read, the Administratum takes centuries to process anything, your messages probably haven't even been submitted to the High Lords yet."

Maximillian shook his head and said, "Almost as bad as that sop of a Governor we have here, I shouldn't have expected any less."

Toran pressed him, "I take it you don't care for the Governor then?"

Maximillian shook his head, "Too damn weak, too interested in keeping everybody happy but unwilling to get his hands dirty to rule effectively."

The world outside the Rhino lit up as it emerged from a tunnel into the bright light outside, the squad looked through the vision slits and saw they had emerged underneath a vast environmental dome. All around were drab dreary buildings, covered in grime and industrial soot, the city looked run down and dilapidated and were it not for the skinny urchins scattering around the transports it would be easy to mistake it for being recently deserted.

Novak glanced out a firing slot and declared, "It's even drearier than I expected."

Toran took it in and said, "The efficient government of Imperial worlds is outside the remit of the Adeptus Astartes, we can only hope this governor has the information was need to complete our mission when we meet him."


	7. Chapter 7

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 7**

Inside the Governor's Palace there was an ante-chamber glided and ornate as one would expect but the décor was faded, the metalwork tarnished, the furniture chipped and worn. Lingering inside was were the Astartes and the First Marshall, they had been waiting for the Governor's summons for almost an hour now and there was no telling how much longer they would be kept here. Captain Toran was standing still in resignation; these sort of petty power plays were typical of nobility, who were so obsessed with their prestige and social standing.

The Astartes could effortlessly batter their way into the courtroom with brute violence if they chose to but such a course was contrary to their goals, Toran was here to acquire information and if that meant letting the governor play his trivial games then the Astartes would not dignify his pettiness by getting angry. Toran had his helm off and cast his eye around the room seeing his Squad standing rigidly to attention, such a petty delay barely registering on warriors who oft stood day-long vigils as part of their ancient rituals.

Elsewhere First Marshall Maximillian was clearly used to such snubs for he had thrown himself into a chair and with an old soldier's knack had instantly gone to sleep, Toran didn't begrudge him this for it was the sign of a veteran warrior who knew the value of rest and had passed beyond worrying what others thought of him. Last of all was Shade-Seer Imix who was stood silently clasping his force staff with his head bowed, his eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly as if in meditation, there was no telling where his mind was: Literally.

Imix could merely be resting his eyes or he could be probing the minds of all around or plunging his consciousness into the roiling insanity of the Warp, there was no way of telling and the mere thought of it made the Captain's trigger finger itch. He knew he was not being rational about this; Imix had proven a stalwart ally but Toran could not shake a lifetime of prejudice that told him to abhor the witch, still he resolved to outwardly show respect to the Librarian if nothing else and keep his thoughts to himself.

The Captain looked round again taking in his brothers and this time he noticed that their larynxes were twitching, a sign that they were having a conversation on a private link behind their helms. One of the privileges of command was that he had the authority to override his subordinates' lock outs and he beseeched his armour's machine spirit to enjoin with the others, there was a moment of resistance as the squad's own armour stubbornly tried to refuse but his plate spat command overrides in a harsh bark of binary and the rest acquiesced like a pack of wolves before the Alpha.

Toran's earpiece burst into life catching the tail end of an argument, he broke into the conversation and sub-vocalised into his vox, "Care to share what is so important?"

If the others were surprised to hear Toran's voice in their private link they showed no sign and Persion replied casually, "We were pondering what this governor will be like, I think he will be hopelessly inbred with a daft wig and ridiculous amounts of gold braiding that won't hide the drool stains upon his shirt."

Novak interjected, "You're completely wrong, he will be ancient and wizened, hunchbacked with scheming eyes from decades of intrigue."

Bylan was holding the Company Standard straight and without moving an inch he intoned in the mechanical drone of a voxspeaker, "+I say he won't be able to walk, he will be plugged into a life support throne and driven around like an invalid+"

Persion shook his head minutely and said, "Jediah… care to take a guess."

"Fat" Jediah retorted briskly, "I am going with Fat."

Persion chuckled and said, "Jediah is disqualified for being predictable but he's probably right… anyone else?"

Furion spoke up to chide them all, "How any of you passed ascension is a mystery that only the Emperor could comprehend, just for once try to remember that you lot are supposed to be upholding the honour of the Company."

"Apologies Sergeant" replied Novak not sounding admonished at all.

"Just try to keep your mouth shut this time" sighed Furion, "Now look lively someone is coming."

At the far end of the Ante-chamber a pair of wooden doors was opening to permit access to the next room, Toran didn't wait for the footmen who were stepping forwards to usher them in but strode confidently past leaving them dumbfounded in his wake. His enhanced hearing could hear the distinct tread of six pairs of ceramite boots behind him and one mortal's, Maximillian must have awoken with the soldier's ability to be instantly alert.

Toran strode into a courtroom which once must have been beautifully adorned but now like everything else here was faded and worn, the room stretched away before him leading to a gaudy throne that was festooned with embellishments. The great chair however was completely empty and Toran's eye was drawn to a great table covered in scrolls and reports, around the table were a dozen men heavy set in rich robes and gold chains who were all gesturing and arguing loudly.

Toran looked for the largest and most corpulent individual assuming he would be the Governor but was surprised when a plain non-descript man hit the table with a gavel and called for silence, the crowd reluctantly fell quiet and the plain dressed man turned about to welcome the Astartes. Toran was surprised to realise the man was young for his office; he had none of the tell-tale marks of Juvenat work so could not have been even fifty Terran years. His garb was plain but well-made and the only gilt on him was a simple gold lapel pin shaped as an Aquila, there was an intense air of energy about the man like someone who had just been for a brisk run or had an amazing idea he had to share with the first person he met.

Before Toran could speak the man declared, "My Lords welcome, I am Governor Makham and I am honoured to meet you."

Toran saluted with the sign of the Aquila and said "I am Captain Toran, leading this joint expedition of the Astartes."

"I must apologise for keeping you waiting but there were important affairs of state to address" declared Makham then he looked sideways at the others present saying, "Affairs that it seems take precedence over greeting guests."

The gaggle of portly men were all staring up at the giant Transhumans in shock and awe, mouths opening and closing in disbelief but the plumpest of them all stepped forwards, waddling under the weight of his gold adornments as he said, "The Xeno raid was unprecedented, they have never struck so openly before, it has disrupted our loading timetables and put our shipments back by days!"

Makham frowned in suppressed anger and said, "May I present Ricko Dumman, head of the Dumman mining clan, speaker for the Mining Guilds and he should know better than to trouble the Emperor's finest with such trivialities."

Ricko blustered, "We are on a strict timetable and Terra demands its due, any shortfall in our quotas is to fail the Emperor in our duties."

From behind the group Maximillian growled just loud enough for all to hear, "Not to mention cutting into your profits."

Makham tried to placate everybody saying, "Well now the Astartes are here we can cut out this Xeno cancer once and for all and get back to business."

Toran raised one hand and said, "As I explained to the First Marshall our mission is not to clear out the Xeno, we have a separate objective."

Everyone's faces fell and Ricko's jowls quivered as he blustered, "This is intolerable, I demand you drive out the Xeno immediately!"

Toran leaned over him and his augmetic eye flared as he growled "Demand?"

Ricko went bright red and fell back in terror of the giant looming over him, it was Makham who drew in a sad breath and said, "Of course we will assist the Astartes any way we can, tell us what you need."

Toran drew himself up and said, "We seek evidence of foul Heretics operating covertly on Clom, they would not want to draw attention but would certainly defend themselves if at risk of discovery, are there any reports of mysterious disappearances or other inexplicable occurrences?"

Ricko spat, "Hah hundreds disappear from the sink-slums every single day" as he glared accusingly at Maximillian who ignored him.

Makham however looked thoughtful and said, "Well what about sector 47-12-3a?"

Toran raised an eyebrow and said, "Explain."

Makham clicked his fingers and a pair of footmen hurried over with a large vellum map which they spread over the piled desk, it was a map of the mineworks and the Governor stabbed a finger onto a seemingly indistinguishable area as he said, "It was during my Father's reign when a whole sector went dark, workers suddenly started disappearing then the foremen, then the investigators and finally the PDF and Arbites, anyone who went in never came out."

Toran raised an eyebrow and said, "Why wasn't this reported?"

Makham shrugged and said, "We were in our isolation phase no messages could be transmitted, all that could be done was to quarantine the area and keep everybody out."

Toran asked, "What happened then?"

Makham replied "Nothing, whatever was in there seemed content to stay put, after a few years the mineshafts were redirected around the sector and everybody forgot it was ever a problem."

Ricko spoke up in protest, "It was most likely just gas build-up and those slovenly workers panicked about a bit of bad air."

Makham glared at him, "And yet your guild refused to pay for issuing breathing gear."

Ricko glared back furiously and spat, "You all sneer at profit but who is it that keeps this colony viable, who pays for all those public works and social reforms you insist upon!"

The brewing argument was averted as Shade-Seer Imix stepped forwards and stabbed his finger onto the map; he pointed at a knot of tunnels just inside the prohibited sector and said, "What is that?"

Everyone looked startled and Makham glanced at where he was pointing before saying, "That looks like an old tunnel junction, just like a thousand others… is it important?"

Imix was silent for a moment then shook his head and said, "No… it is nothing."

Toran gave the Librarian a curious look but said, "This sector sounds like the best place to start, my forces will enter this region and probe its mysteries."

Ricko declared boldly, "My guild will send men along with you."

Maximillian though spat, "You just want an excuse to probe for any rich Adamantium deposits left behind, no my Arbites will go in armed to the teeth."

Toran overrode them all saying, "None of you will be going, my force will deal with this matter alone."

Everybody looked surprised but Toran brooked no dissent as he commanded, "By the Edicts of Terra and as an officer of the Adeptus Astartes I declare this matter a moral threat and place it under military jurisdiction, all civilian agencies will stay out of the sector while we face whatever is in there."

"I really must protest" declared Makham, "This is our world."

Toran put him in his place saying, "You have bigger concerns, like how you will explain to the Inquisition that this matter was never reported."

And with those words Toran turned his back on everybody and led his Marines out of the courtroom leaving a furious argument to erupt in his wake.


	8. Chapter 8

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 8**

Far under the surface of Clom there was a tiny alcove, little more than an overlarge crack left behind by the passing drilling machines as they followed rich veins of Adamantium. The space was dark, dank and humid with beads of moisture forming on the bare rock face as the warm air touched the void cooled earth, it was as hostile environment as could be imagined and it was avoided by all which made it the perfect place for a clandestine meeting.

Waiting in the narrow space three hooded figures were huddled around a dim lumen orb, they were swathed in thick grey robes as much as to keep the cold at bay as to hide their identities and it made them look like large stalagmites in the tunnel. Their breath frosted in the cold air and they glanced continually out at the light of the passage way beyond their little alcove but none dared stir or make a noise. The trio were waiting impatiently, all of them looking furtive and apprehensive at being here so far into the dark and cold, two of them fretted nervously and looked up and down for signs of intruders but the other stood still silently fuming.

After an interminable time the largest growled, "By the Throne, where is he?"

A second one of the group looked around the dim interior of the alcove, filled with shadows cast by the lumen orb and he said, "Do we all really need to be here?"

The first rebuked him, "Don't get squeamish now, you knew what we were signing up for when you agreed to this deal."

"But if the Imperium finds out" whined the second.

The first growled, "Then we will die in excruciating pain but we have already done more than enough to be condemned and it's too late to back out now."

"I never signed on for this" moaned the second.

"Grow a spine" hissed the first, "We are stuck with this mess and someone needs to sort it out before the Inquisition hears of it"

Nearer the entrance to the alcove the third figure was peering into the light beyond but he struggled to see, desperate for more light he reached up to twitch his hood back but was stopped when the first barked, "Keep that damn thing on!"

The third spat back, "Can't see a damned thing under this."

The first retorted "And if some passer-by sees your face you will be instantly recognised, you are too well-known to go unremarked, that's why there will be no faces and no names here."

As the third turned away the second whispered, "Why did you bring him in on this?"

The third growled "Because we didn't know the right people to move that many warm bodies unnoticed, we needed his muscle and his contacts with men who know the importance of not asking questions."

"You think we can trust him?" asked the second.

The first snorted, "Throne no but he knows where the money comes from and will keep to our accord, I wish I could the say the same of our absent partner."

The second shuddered and said, "I can't stand him, I hate the way he looks at me like a butcher sizing up a grox."

"You liked the profits well enough" hissed the first, "Learn to put up with the rest."

The faintest rustle surrounded them accompanied by a slight breeze; an odd occurrence given that there was nothing behind them save solid rock. With grim inevitability the trio turned about and looked to their rear as a soft voice called mockingly, "Having problems Mon-Keigh?"

Everybody started in surprise when they saw a fourth figure standing in the dark alcove, this one was lean and predatory with gilded armour that glistened like wet blood and a bared blade held loosely alongside a vicious whip. The newcomer did not seem troubled by the cold even though his armour looked thin and uninsulated, most eerily his breath did not steam in the air like the other's and he breath was unlaboured by the chill. The men were shocked for the alcove had been empty a heartbeat before and they had seen nothing, there was no other access save the one they had faced and it seemed that the newcomer had emerged from solid rock.

The first man glared at their unwelcome guest and ground out between his teeth, "Athra J'rect, it's about damned time."

The Archon stared fiercely at the speaker and said, "Be grateful I deigned to come to this meeting at all, it is not fitting that a being of my station answers the calls of lesser beasts."

The first growled, "You better learn how to live with it unless you want a bolt round to the head."

Athra's smile lost all its humour and he snarled, "Do you think you can threaten me?"

The first replied frankly, "I merely state facts, the Space Marines have come and they are angry, what were you thinking by provoking them?"

Athra snarled, "You cannot dangle such a bounty of cattle as hangs in orbit over this world and expect us not to take our rightful due."

The third stepped forwards and barked "You Fething moron, we had a deal and you ruined it by getting greedy!"

Athra's face screwed up in outrage at being addressed so by a Mon-Keigh but before he could respond the first lashed out and caught the third with the back of his hand, smacking across the face under the hood. He snarled, "Don't screw this up, we may have only brought you into this for your muscle but the last thing we need right now is a fight!"

Athra looked on in amusement and coiled his agoniser whip as he said, "You should let me do that, it will be a lesson he will never forget."

The first however didn't seem impressed and said, "You use that in here and there will be tremendous shrieking and wailing, the miners will come in droves and where will that leave you?"

Athra glared in frustration but curled his lip and deactivated his agoniser whip saying, "It does not matter, your precious angels are mere gene-bulks, we can destroy them without due fuss, it is of no concern."

The first smiled smugly under his hood and said, "That's not what my spies report, they say the Space Marines slaughtered dozens of your followers."

Athra waved a delicate hand dismissively as he replied, "Mere low-castes and vat-grown fodder, they have not faced a Trueborn of Commarragh, when they do their suffering shall be spectacular."

"You think you can take them?" asked the first.

"It will be simplicity itself" said Athra with a gleam of anticipation in his eye.

The second broke in to complain, "This should never have been necessary, the Astartes weren't even here for you, they were looking for something else. If you had just kept your forces quiet the Space Marines would have come and gone none the wiser and we could have carried on with our deal uninterrupted."

Athra was getting angry at being addressed like he was an equal and said, "Why should I wait for my due, why should I not just take everything your pathetic world has to offer?"

The first replied smugly, "If you had the capability to do that then you would have done it long ago, you thought we were too stupid to realise the truth but your Impaled Heart Kabal is not the mighty power you pretend, is it?"

Athra fell silent not wanting to answer that question as the first continued, "We had an arrangement: we gift you with a steady supply of slaves, our worst scum and least productive workers and in return you limit your raids to the isolated outposts far from our cities. You get more slaves than you could ever hope to steal while we get to carry on with our business uninterrupted and if you wish to keep that state of affairs going you will have to deal with this problem you have created."

Athra was sulking now as the sense of the words sank in and he spat "What are you suggesting?"

The first answered "We sent the Space Marines out on a wild grox chase into the prohibited sector where they will be out of contact, you need to ambush them and wipe them out entirely: no survivors. The Warp will rise up and cut us off in a few Terran months' time and then it will be another ten years before anybody can come snooping around again, plenty of time for us to hide the evidence."

Athra was disgusted at having to follow a Mon-Keigh's plan but he nodded anyway and said, "I will find them and subdue them, gene-bulks make prized trophies in Commorragh."

"Don't get cocky; they are more powerful than they appear but to make certain you can take this Auspex." The first said producing a scanner from under his robes, "Its spirit is bound to the Guild's seismic sensors, it should tell you exactly where to find your prey."

Athra took the device and grimaced at its crude functionality but said, "Very well if blood must be shed I shall call upon the Wych-Cult, a far more elegant death than those barbarians deserve but we must all make sacrifices sometimes."

The second nodded under his hood and said, "Just see them dead, we need to get back to business quickly."

Athra fixed him with a penetrating stare and the man shrank back as the Archon hissed, "I shall not forget this disrespect, pray to your corpse-god that you never find yourselves under my knives."

"Make whatever threats you need to" spat the first impatiently, "Just make sure none of the Space Marines come back."

Athra sneered as his arrogance reasserted itself then he stepped back and disappeared into the shadows, the second waited a moment then shined the lumen orb over the space where the Eldar had stood only a moment before but found only bare rock. He stepped forwards and probed the rock face looking for cracks or doorways but there was nothing and he snatched his hand back before his skin froze to the rock.

"How does he do that?" asked the second as his breath frosted in the air.

"It does not matter" replied the first, "All that matters is that he clears up this mess quickly."

"Can we really keep this concealed?" asked the second.

The first replied, "We have to or everything we have built here falls apart."

The third have been sulking since he had been hit but now the Eldar was gone he found the courage to say, "You hit me, I have killed men for less."

"Better that than the Xeno's whip, you would have liked it far less" replied the first, "Besides we pay you more than generously for your troubles."

"So what do we do now?" asked the second.

The first answered, "Now we slip out of here and return to our lives, speak of this to no one and with any luck they will all kill each other, solving our problems for us." The others nodded then one by one they turned and slipped out of the alcove leaving only darkness behind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 9**

Into the darkness of the mine works six squads of Space Marines advanced, they proceeded in perfect Codex formation sweeping constantly for danger. The mine around them was dark and uniform, each passage indistinguishable from the next and the only indicator of distance was the frequent support columns they passed as they walked.

The air was thin and musty for the pumps had been shut down decades ago and the atmosphere would have left a mortal man gasping for oxygen. The only light present came from the dull glow of helmet lights and the shine of plasma weapons, a man would have found it intolerable and would have fumbled in the dark but to the enhanced eyesight of Astartes it might as well have been broad daylight.

Captain Toran was near the centre of the group walking with the Sword of Thiel in his hand, he was surveying his Company and checking all was in readiness. Taking point was Lorath's assault squad; they had eschewed their jump packs in the tight confines and held their chain swords ready while their Sergeant had his lightning claws extended in expectation of trouble.

Behind them was Mylos' squad who had a plasma gun specialist in addition to the Sergeant's own combi-plasma gun, a weapon that the marksman was utterly deadly with. In the centre of the group was Zeax's Devastators who had equipped Heavy Bolters in addition to the Sergeant's Thunder Hammer, the unwieldy weapons were cumbersome indeed but in the tight tunnels would prove lethal if given opportunity to fire. Then Toran's command squad walked with Imix and his Smoke Jaguars and last of all was Priyar's squad who had equipped a melta gun.

As the group walked Toran was addressing Persion and asking, "Can you reach the Silent Hunter?"

The communication specialist answered, "No, we are too far beneath the ground now and the local vox relays failed long ago, we are completely cut off."

From his other side Novak interjected, "I wouldn't worry, we have fifty six Space Marines here, whole worlds have fallen to less."

However Furion admonished him, "Never underestimate your foe, the galaxy is littered with the graves of Space Marines who thought they were in for an easy fight."

The Champion fell silent but Toran was surprised when Apothecary Memnos opened a private vox-link in his helm and said, "Your Champion is curiously flippant."

The Captain looked over at the Apothecary and considered that despite serving under Chief Apothecary Lessall he had not mentioned the Chapter's political strife at all and seemed genuinely disinterested in the whole matter. It irritated Toran that even here on active deployment he could not escape the intrigue and decided to stay neutral saying "Novak has a loose tongue but his skills are undoubted, when you see him in combat you will understand why I keep him close."

"And what of the Eldar presence?" asked Memnos.

Toran was unsure if he was being tested or not so said, "They are not relevant to our mission."

Memnos didn't sound judgemental but rather curious as he said, "You would allow the Emperor's foes to endure?"

Toran said sadly, "I have my orders and chasing Xenos is a distraction, we could spend all our limited time here pursuing shadows and find nothing. We must remain focussed upon our assigned objectives."

Memnos nodded as if he understood and replied, "The perennial curse of our existence, the enemies of mankind are so many and we are so few, we must choose our battles and know that for everyone we win there will be another lost because we were not there."

Toran was intrigued now and said, "So how does one choose which battles to pursue?"

Memnos let out a snort of derision and commented, "You are the Captain so you tell me, my role is merely to patch the brothers back together once the battle is done."

Their conversation was interrupted as a shout came from ahead, it was Lorath and he had just emerged into a large nexus of tunnel junctions. He was calling for the Captain and Toran waved the squads to form a perimeter as he pressed forwards to see what they had found, he walked into the nexus and saw it was a large cavern held up by numerous support columns and was littered with discarded mining equipment.

Toran advanced into the centre of the junction and saw piles of decayed bodies, long since rotted away to mere bones and rags, he looked upon the bodies and said, "What is this?"

Lorath answered, "Looks like bodies of workers left for dead and looking at the blast patterns this was the work of bolters."

Toran gazed at the piles and said, "These bodies have been disturbed, someone piled them up after killing them, definite evidence that the enemy was here once."

Lorath said, "They are too long decayed to provide clues, even our Omophagea implants won't be able to absorb anything from this… unless..."

Toran saw that the Sergeant was looking behind him and clenched as he realised Imix had approached them, he tried not to let any concern show as he turned and said, "Shade-Seer, can you probe their memories?"

Imix looked down at the bones but then shook his head saying, "Gleaning memories from the dead is possible but only recently deceased ones, these spirits have left this gloomy existence and have passed into the light of the Sun-Emperor."

Toran didn't know whether to be frustrated or glad that they would not be calling upon the Psyker's powers but Memnos stepped up and asked, "Can your gifts tell us anything at all?"

Imix frowned and said, "These tunnels are old and full of secrets, there is more here than we realise… I suggest we split up to cover more ground, I can take my squad and press ahead while you sweep this area."

"No" said Toran, "I may not have your gifts but this is the first hard evidence we have of Traitor activity, if we meet them we will need our full might and I will not divide our forces yet."

Imix protested "But my Smoke-Jaguars can cover more ground alone than you can."

Toran replied sternly "And if you encounter the Traitors in force they will overwhelm you."

"Not if we see them first" replied Imix with a snarl.

"I have made my decision" said Toran firmly to put an end to the matter and Imix fell silent as he continued; "Now the question is how does this tie into the Xeno presence?"

Memnos sounded surprised as he said, "You think they are connected?"

"We cannot rule out that possibility" said Toran.

"Traitors and Xeno working together" spat Lorath angrily, "Are there no depths to which they will not sink?!"

Memnos didn't sound convinced as he said, "It could just be a coincidence."

"I am not ruling out anything until we have more evidence either way" said Toran, "But we need to press on before…"

Suddenly and without warning Imix lurched and put one hand to his skull as his face screwed up in pain, Toran stopped speaking and looked around with concern blurting, "What is it?"

"Xeno minds, so many and so close!" Imix yelled, "They are coming!"

Toran wasted not second as he cried, "Defensive formation!" and instantly the Storm Heralds slammed into a large ring with bolters pointed outwards in all directions, the Devastators positioned in the middle of the circle where they would be protected. The moment's warning saved the Space Marine's lives for barely had they raised their guns when the walls seemed to excrete flipping darting bodies with sharp jagged knives in their hands.

There was were scores of lithe bodies coming straight at them, far more than had been encountered in orbit and they filled the tunnel nexus with their merry cries and eerie alien laughter that rang with scorn and contempt. These Eldar were different from those before because now mixed in with the armoured warriors were leaping female shapes with long top knots of cascading hair running down their backs, their movements were even faster and more graceful and everything about them screamed that they were deadlier than their lesser kin. Toran had never seen such a bizarre sight but he heard Furion bellow, "Brothers, beware the Wych-Cult!"

The Astartes reacted with Transhuman speed unleashing a torrent of bolter fire in all directions, spraying rocket propelled shells at the Xeno bodies in bright flares. Several Eldar bodies were blown apart by the salvo but far more returned fire with sprays of jagged crystals from their splinter rifles that rattled on thick Ceramite armour, meanwhile the Wyches laughed as they darted forwards.

The Astartes focussed upon the charging Wyches and tried to track their enemies but the foe moved too fast and bolts went wild as they seemed to dance through the hail untouched. Suddenly there was a brilliant flare of light and a shining ball of dazzling plasma hurtled outwards to catch a Wych straight on, obliterating the Xeno in a flash of incandescent power.

Out of the corner of his eye Toran saw Sergeant Mylos ranging his combi-plasma for another shot but before he could fire the Eldar were upon them, one with brilliant purple hair coming right at the captain. Toran met the Eldar's first strike with a parry from his sword but the serrated knife twisted around his guard with eye-watering speed and came right at his neck seal.

The blow never connected for an instant beforehand a shimmering power sword swept down and took off the arm at the elbow, then Novak leapt past his captain and the Champion struck down the stunned Wych with a cry of righteous anger. Another Wych flipped towards him and the Champion met her blade to blade in a duel of such startling speed and skill that no mortal eye could have followed it.

Toran was about to step up and lend his arm when he spied Sergeant Lorath fending off another Wych with his lightning claws, he was standing over the unmoving body of one his squad mates in an effort to protect him but it swiftly became apparent that he was the one in need of aid. Toran paused for a single breath and waited for his moment then he saw the Wych pause to gloat over the imminent kill and he lunged forwards to run the Sword of Thiel right into her spine.

The Wych gasped in shocked disbelief before slumping in death, Toran swept the corpse off his blade and saw Lorath had already turned to engage two more Wyches who laughed as they danced around his clumsy blows. Everywhere more and more Wyches were piling into the fight and the odds were growing ever more overwhelming against the Space Marines, even as the Captain watched he saw one of Mylos' squad fall with a pair of bloodied daggers plunged up under his arm into his hearts.

Toran saw the battle was turning against the Astartes, the Xeno were too many and there were too many angles to cover, they were surrounded and outnumbered and even for Transhumans it would be mere minutes until they were all cut down. The Captain ran his options through his enhanced mind for a single moment and came to the conclusion that they needed a way to tip the odds in their favour: something completely unexpected.

He drew in a breath and bellowed, "Imix, we need your gifts now!" but the Shade-Seer gave no response. Toran glanced backwards in concern that Imix may have been beset by foes but was shocked to see absolutely nothing; there was no sign of the Shade-Seer or his fellows.

The Smoke-Jaguars had just disappeared.


	10. Chapter 10

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 10**

Toran stared at the spot where the Smoke-Jaguars had been as his mind tried to comprehend what could have happened but before he could find an answer the press of battle swept over him and he was forced to focus on the fight around him. All thoughts of the reasons for the mysterious disappearance fled from his mind as he desperately defended himself from a flurry of knife blows.

Toran lashed out left and right forcing the Wyches to summersault away but that left him confronting a single Eldar female, this one wore pitiful armour that left patches of skin exposed yet bizarrely she had not a scratch on her. The wych shrieked as she swung a sword made of overlapping segmented layers at him and Toran surprised himself by managing to catch the attack on the edge of his own sword, the Captain did not realise that he was being lured forward into a trap until the Wych giggled and twisted her grip on the hilt.

Instantly the sword collapsed upon itself, breaking apart to become a long lash made up from razor sharp blades, Toran had no time to react as the whip moved like a living thing to stab into the joints of his arm. The lethally sharp edges drew Transhuman blood as they ripped at his tendons and Toran was forced to desperately twist his arm at an awkward angle to prevent his whole hand being torn off, he fell back with his sword hand hanging limply and he was forced to switch to a one handed grip on his blade.

The Wych cackled in delight at seeing his injury and bounded forwards as she flicked her Razorwhip around herself, Toran knew logically his best chance was to fall back in the hopes that his transhuman physiology could repair the damage but that was not the way of the Space Marines. All his training and hypno-indoctrination told him two things, first that when facing a superior opponent, when injured and without hope the only option was to attack and secondly that victory requires sacrifice.

As the Wych pounced in expectation of her prey's retreat, Toran reversed his stride and stepped forwards closing the distance, the razorwhip spun about to take his head off but the Captain raised his wounded right arm and used it to intercept the oncoming lash. Already in motion the whip hit his forearm and dug in deeply as it pirouetted around and around his limb, wrapping it in a layer of razor sharp edges that penetrated the ceramite of his armour. Even with his enhanced physique Toran's arm felt like it was being ripped apart but he compartmentalised the pain and concentrated on the essential facts: his arm was still attached, he could still move it and if he could move then he could yet fight.

The Wych was momentarily stunned by the seemingly suicidal move and that was all Toran needed to wrench his arm backwards hauling the Eldar off her feet, she flew towards him and the Captain met her not with his sword but with a titanic headbutt from his helm. Reinforced ceramite was driven forward by neck muscles that could have lifted a small ground transport and when they encountered frail Eldar bone they shattered it into tiny fragments, the Wych collapsed with her skull caved in and Toran stepped over her corpse as he shook Xeno brain matter from his eye lenses.

Toran's arm burned fiercely as his implants started rebuilding his tendons and muscles but he had bought a second to take stock of his surroundings, all around him he could see his brothers beset by Wyches, skipping forms that danced around blows and cartwheeled around strikes. The Eldar made battle seem like some elaborate dance and the Astartes looked like poorly schooled buffoons in comparison, their defensive circle had been broken and now the swirling madness of the melee carried every man away into their own individual war.

Toran saw Mylos surrounded by foes who nicked and scored his armour with a thousand cuts, the Space Marine tried to hit back but always the Eldar were just out of reach and Transhuman blood flowed to stain his proud colours. Meanwhile Priyar was subjected to hit and run strikes, the Eldar seemingly wary of his power maul's concussive field, they would leap in to gouge and tear then cartwheel away before they could be hit in return.

Sergeant Zeax was trying to defend his squad with his thunder hammer and storm shield, he was having some success but the enemy outnumbered him too greatly and he could not cover every avenue of approach. His Heavy Bolter armed brothers tried to gun down the foes but they were surrounded and unable to effectively concentrate their firepower in any one direction.

Sergeant Lorath was roaring in anger as he lashed out at one Wych but the Eldar he targeted ran straight at a support column to jump up and off it before doing a back flip over the Space Marines' head. Even as the Captain watched he saw the leaping Wych slashing her blade mid-air through the neck of another one of Lorath's squad, it was brother Odalla who had stood proudly in defence of the Fortress Monastery but now he fell as a headless corpse while his murderess laughed on merrily. Elsewhere Furion held the Command Squad together in a tight knot of resistance, armed with the mightiest of weapons and with the banner flying high over their heads they alone were having some success yet the numbers against them were too great and for every Wych they cut down two more would take her place.

It was in this moment that Toran spied a figure he recognised bounding right at him, wielding a serrated sword and an agoniser whip it was Athra J'rect and he only had eyes for the Captain. Even with only one good arm Toran levelled the Sword of Thiel at the Archon and bellowed a challenge, "Face me Xeno filth!" Athra sneered as he sashayed closer and called, "Your death shall be exquisite!"

Toran knew the Eldar was faster than he was, more skilled and since his foe was not encumbered by an injured arm there was no way he could beat the Archon in a duel of blades but then sword play was the last thing on the Captain's mind. As Athra closed in Toran feinted high with his blade and the Archon sneered at the obvious ploy, twisting in anticipation of sudden reversal of the blade but in doing so he fell into the Astartes' trap.

As the Eldar closed Toran raised his right arm, still encased in bundles of razorwire and drove it laterally across the Archon's abdominal plates, thin Xeno armour parted under the lashes' lethal kiss and watery pink blood flowed. Athra screamed not in pain but in outrage that a mere Mon-Keigh had wounded him and skipped backwards out of reach before he could be disembowelled, Toran however did not pursue for he knew defeating the Archon would not turn the battle for his Marines, it was time to use unorthodox thinking. Toran drew in a breath and bellowed "Sergeant Zeax, have your brothers target the support columns!"

Instantly four Heavy Bolters raised their aim and unleashed streams of fire at the plasteel columns that held up the roof, great gaping craters were blown into the metal and sent jagged splinters flying to rattle off armour plates. For long seconds the barrages continued but so thick were the columns that it seemed a wasted effort then slowly with a roar that shook the earth itself one of the columns began to crumble and fall apart.

The fighting stopped for an instant as all eyes were drawn upwards and everybody saw large cracks begin to race across the roof then with dread inevitability rocks began to fall, the first few were tiny bits of rubble barely the size of a fist but the after a second massive boulders dropped downwards to smash randomly into the dirt. Eldar and Space Marines were forced apart as the deluge fell upon them, massive stones impacting the earth and shattering to spray shards everywhere like frag grenades going off.

The rocks fell indiscriminately upon everybody and all felt their harsh touch but the Space Marines wore thick ceramite plate and stood true while the Eldar's found their grace and agility rendered moot, their thin armour useless in this environment. Toran saw dozens of Eldar die as they were crushed under falling rocks and even as he felt stone shards ricochet off his plate cried, "Brothers, follow me!" and began forcing a path towards one of the distant exits, it didn't matter which one: anywhere was better than here.

As he ran his Company followed him out but he spied Athra J'rect retreating in another direction and heard the Eldar cry, "I shall find you Mon-Keigh and your life shall be mine!" Toran almost diverted to finish off the wounded Archon but even as he thought it a shard of stone ricocheted into his neck seal and penetrated to draw blood.

Toran grimaced but could do nothing to do save keep putting one foot in front of another and lead his men into the safety of a large tunnel, swiftly they dove into the welcome darkness and barely had the last Marine made it out when the roof finally failed and collapsed in an ear splitting roar to seal off the entranceway behind them. Silence fell and Toran was left gasping as his Larraman cells clotted over his wounds and many Marines staggered with blood pouring from gaping wounds, as the thick cloying dust settled he looked at the pile of debris behind them and saw it was completely sealed, there was no going back that way now.

Toran felt utterly weary but knew they had to regroup swiftly and not trusting his voice he waved his sergeants to reorganise the squads, meanwhile Memnos approached him and said, "Let me look at that neck."

Toran tried to shake him off saying, "There are far worse injured than me, the men need you." Memnos replied briskly, "In medical matters you do not have the final word, I do, the men need to see their Captain strong and inviolate right now so come here before I sedate you." Toran relented and bent down to allow the Apothecary to start removing splinters from his neck and suturing arteries back together, as he waited Furion and Persion approached and he looked at them knowing they had the grim butchers bill ready.

Furion wasted no time but said brutally, "Final head count is three Brothers dead and lost to the ambush." Toran grimaced, three deaths in one battle was a harsh tally for Space Marines and he snarled, "We shall make the Xeno pay for this."

Persion nodded and said, "Indeed we shall but I also want to know what happened to the Smoke-Jaguars, they abandoned us!" Furion didn't sound convinced and said, "Perhaps some vile Xeno trick stole them away."

Toran replied, "No they were gone too swiftly and cleanly, they chose to leave us." Persion snarled, "Our allies always leave us at the worst moments, I am noticing a pattern starting to emerge."

Toran said, "We shall find them and I shall personally wring some answers out of Imix with my own two hands." Persion nodded but said, "There is another matter, I took something off an Eldar's corpse when I killed it, you have better see this." He held out a small device, typically Imperial in its blunt functionality, Toran said "what is this?"

Persion replied, "It is an Auspex scanner and it seems to be tasked with displaying our exact location at all times." Memnos seemed done with the Captain's injuries for he leaned over and said, "What does that mean?"

Toran snarled, "It seems the Smoke-Jaguars are not the only ones we must beat some answers out of, someone has betrayed us, someone had betrayed the Imperium!"


	11. Chapter 11

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 11**

In the claustrophobic depths the Storm Heralds pressed forwards, they were torn and ragged covered in dust and blood but their spirit was indomitable and they forged onwards. The route behind them was closed off so the only option was forwards, they marched into the darkness aware that they were being hunted and that the Eldar could return at any moment.

They followed the narrow tunnels and there was no way of telling where they led, the tunnels winded and looped around themselves in a convoluted maze and without any references even their enhanced equilibrium was of little use. Many times they passed branches and forks but these were exploratory shafts, too narrow for the company to pass and too easy to be trapped in so they avoided these and went ever forwards.

Sergeant Priyar's squad was taking point and sweeping ahead for threats while Mylos' squad brought up the rear, walking between them were the rest of the squads and with them was Captain Toran who was deep in thought. The battle had been hard fought but the squads had recovered with commendable swiftness, in this they were indebted to Apothecary Memnos whose tireless work had undoubtedly saved several Astartes who would have otherwise slipped into sus-an-membrane comas or worse. Toran's own arm had been freed from the razorwire but his vambrace was a torn mess, his arm was also a mass of scabbed tissue and raw nerves but the Captain was more concerned by the affront to his plate's Spirit than the agony of his flesh rebuilding itself.

As he walked Toran was considering all that had happened to them, he replayed all that transpired looking for signs he should have seen earlier but nothing sprang out at him and he lacked the data to form a conclusion. His thoughts were interrupted by noise of Sergeant Furion requesting a private vox-link and Toran accepted the entreaty with a click, Furion said, "You are very quiet Captain."

Toran replied, "I am trying to determine how we were tricked so easily, I must be the galaxy's biggest fool to once again be so trusting."

Furion eyed his commander and said, "This isn't just about the ambush is it, you dwell upon Halis."

That statement had the awful ring of truth to it for during their recent war it had been a horrifying revelation that one of their oldest squad mates had been a Traitor, those who knew of this had been sworn to binding oaths of secrecy lest mistrust destroy the brotherhood of the entire Chapter. Toran had personally killed the traitor but it had left scars on his spirit and he said, "We trusted the wrong soul once and paid dearly for it, now it seems I have learned nothing."

"Permission to speak freely" asked Furion and when Toran nodded he said, "Captain we were all scarred by that betrayal but if you fall into self-recrimination and doubt then the traitor has struck a double blow, you must lead with surety and be confident that we shall overcome whatever the galaxy can throw at us."

Toran didn't sound convinced as he said, "I should have seen that something was off with the Smoke-Jaguars." Furion said, "They are Space Marines but from a different Chapter and bloodline, we cannot expect them to act according to our traditions, we do not know why they disappeared."

Toran raised an eyebrow and said, "You think they have may be some reasonable explanation for abandoning us to die?" Furion replied, "I think we lack enough data either way and should be absolutely certain of our course before we start a blood feud with another Chapter."

Toran said, "But there is most certainly a heretic here on this world, someone working with the Xenos." Furion nodded and replied, "Yes someone who knew where we were going and had access to high-level imperial technology."

Toran thought on this and said, "The Mining Guilds are the most likely suspects though I would not rule out the Imperial Governor, he seemed too eager to help us by half… it could have been a ruse." Furion nodded and said "Once we are out of here we should contact the Inquisition at once, even with our political strife they will not ignore heretics infesting one of the Emperor's worlds."

Toran was about to ask how they would get out of these tunnels when ahead there was a sharp cry and he heard Priyar calling, "Captain come see this!" Toran hurried forwards and saw that the squad had paused at a fork in the tunnel; a junction that was littered with piles of bones. Toran instantly took in the situation and saw that these remains bore the signs of explosive bolt rounds, the right fork headed back in the direction of the colony but the left led deeper into the mines and possibly the origin of whoever did this. Despite all that had happened Toran still had his orders to seek out the presence of Traitors so he put thoughts of heretics and Xeno aside and ordered "We go left, double time."

Swiftly the squads formed up and proceeded left, even more wary for traps as they hastened towards their goal, the tunnel seemed totally nondescript and like any other but in less than an hour they ran into something quite different. Blocking the end of the corridor was a large ceramite door, big enough for two Space Marines to pass through simultaneously and before the hatch were a pair of Tarantula sentry guns but they lay inert and deactivated. Toran saw the door was unsealed and his expectations fell as he realised that these defences should be armed and ready, the fact they lay inert did not bode well. It seemed Persion agreed for he pushed his way forwards to the door saying "It looks like we arrived too late, the Traitors have long since fled."

Suddenly Furion barked "Hold fast!" causing everybody to pause, he made his way past the alert squads and stood before the doorway, examining it in minute detail. After a moment he declared, "Seismic mines, one step inside and the whole place would have come down on our heads." Toran was relieved his wise Brother had a wealth of experience with demolitions and said, "Can you disarm it?" Furion scoffed and said, "They have yet to build the bomb I cannot disarm" then he knelt down and began fiddling with the doorjamb, doing works so fine the others could barely see what he was doing. Everybody else backed up the tunnel to give him space to work and as they waited Persion said, "It seems the Traitors left a surprise behind for anyone who came snooping."

Toran nodded and said, "Treacherous and deceitful, exactly what I would expect from Traitors." Memnos was with them and said, "Still it does not bode well, where are the guards, where are the weapon emplacements? If this place held anything of value surely it would be better protected."

Toran shook his head and said, "We cannot know for sure until we examine this place in detail." Persion said, "Speaking of which I think our Sergeant is finished." Toran looked over and saw that Furion had indeed stood up and was examining his work with satisfaction, they walked over as and the Captain asked, "Is it disarmed?"

Furion replied, "This one is but we would be fools to think the Traitors left only one trap, we should expect more inside." Toran declared, "Then a small party will proceed inside, Furion and Persion will come with me, Memnos come too there may be biological evidence only you would recognise."

Furion seemed disquieted by that and said, "Captain you are too valuable to risk, let us proceed ahead while you wait here with the men." Toran frowned and said, "I will not ask any man to take a risk I would not take myself, we shall all go in and that is an order." Furion did not sound pleased but complied saying, "As you will but step only where I step and touch absolutely nothing... anything could be a trap." Then he stooped and picked up several sooty rocks before slowly proceeding inside, Toran and the others followed him in while the rest of the Company fell into a defensive formation behind them.

The four walked in single file following Furion who was carefully judging every step; occasionally he would pause and seemingly at random draw sooty lines and circles on the floor before diverting around them and steering the others clear. As they walked Toran was looking around and was disappointed to see nothing but empty chambers and vacant storerooms with only the occasional crate lying about, Toran sighed and said, "It seems you were right Persion, the Traitors are long fled."

Persion glanced into a crate but did not touch anything as he said, "Bolt rounds, frag grenades, chainsword teeth and basic armour repair kits, this looks like a supply cache to me, long since cleared out and abandoned." Toran said "But not destroyed, they may have intended to return so we may yet find something of value." Then he spied Furion peering into a hatch and looking upwards, the Sergeant craned his head about before declaring, "Secondary access point, looks like it runs all the way to the surface."

Toran noted that for later but indicated they should press on and so they continued their sweep, clearing the cache section by section, room by room but finding little more than abandoned supplies. Just as they were about to declare the area cleared they stumbled across a room that was different, a chamber packed with vox sets and logic engines. Furion went in first and swept for explosives but found nothing and then Persion followed to inspect the equipment, after a few minutes he declared, "This is a comms room, old Legionary gear of a mark not produced in three thousand years, quite a find." Toran asked, "Can you glean anything useful?"

Persion sounded doubtful saying, "They probably wiped the memory cores before they left but there are always traces, we can interrogate the Machine Spirits given enough time." Toran ordered, "Take what you can extract and we will let the Forgemaster examine it when we return home."

Furion however interjected, "Do not link your amour's spirit to the artefacts of heretics; they may have left evil data Djinns and scrapcode infections for the unwary." Toran said, "Good point, better to mark this site and return with servitor lifters to carry the whole lot out." "So is that it then?" asked Persion "Is the mission over already?"

Toran replied, "Far from it, our primary objectives may have been met but this world is still beset by Xenos and riddled with heretics, we have standing orders to root out any who defy the Emperor's will and destroy them utterly." Furion did not sound reassured as he said, "First we must return to the colony, that will require us to make our way back through the tunnels where the Eldar will have plenty of opportunities to ambush us again." Toran shook his head, "I did not intend to take the tunnels, if we go in a straight line we can bypass the Xenos and return in a fraction of the time."

"You mean to take us over the surface?" said Memnos cautiously, "That could be dangerous; the radiation levels are troublingly high outside the environmental domes." "Our armour is void proofed" boasted Persion, "We can take a bit of sunlight."

"Not my point" said Memnos, "Even we have our limits and those levels are at the very edges of our physiology's tolerances." Toran assured him"Our exposure will be brief, now get everybody in here and up that access shaft, we will not be leaving this world until the Xeno are defeated and the heretics are punished."

"All of them"


	12. Chapter 12

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 12**

Across the barren and desolate surface a line of bedraggled Tranhumans walked, their proud colours were dirty and tarnished and yet they still marched proudly in the harsh glare of the local star. They were advancing in staggered combat formation, ever wary for attacks but here on the surface there was nothing but dust and shallow impact craters, the chances of the Eldar taking them unawares was low indeed.

Bringing up the rear Sergeant Zeax was leading his Devastators, he was walking slowly in the vacuum and watching his pace for every movement was exaggerated and a misstep could send a brother tumbling in an undignified heap. Thankfully the gravity was near Terran standard which helped but the lack of atmosphere was perilous indeed, a single poorly maintained armour seal could spell doom for a lax brother which was why the Chapter stressed the importance of void training with as much rigour as every other aspect of a Space Marines' training.

Zeax was finding this all disconcerting for he was accustomed to hearing the sounds of his fellow Astartes all around him but now the only noises were the sounds of his own breathing and the pervasive hum of his backpack generator working to maintain life support and motive power. Every suit of power armour was a unique creation resulting from centuries of repairs and countless rebuilds, Zeax's plate had recently been fitted with a replacement power generator that had meshed poorly with the spirit of his armour, normally it was a barely discernible rattle but enclosed like this the buzzing filled his world.

Zeax tried to put aside the droning behind his head and focussed on the world outside his helm, it was blank and almost featureless the only landmarks being random impact craters and the distant dome of the colony which was growing larger as they approached. The landscape was brilliantly lit by the planet's sun, unfiltered by atmosphere and even the Space Marine's eyesight would have been punished were it not for their autosenses compensating, however it do could nothing about the harsh radiation cascading down upon them and their armour constantly intoned alerts as they walked through a deluge of solar energy.

The radiation levels were troublingly high and Zeax could feel his gene-seed responding as the Melanchromic organ coated his skin in protective chemicals agents, the miraculous gene-crafted organ was fending off otherwise lethal levels of radiation but the overall effect was most unpleasant. Every inch of Zeax felt as if he had been dipped in slime and his skin moved against the internal surfaces of his armour with every motion.

As they walked into a wide crater Zeax looked at his fellows and knew they all were feeling the same sensation, each one of them benefitting from the same gene-seed which was a legacy stretching back over ten thousand years to the mysterious archeotech-sciences of the Emperor himself. It was a strange thing to be watching the Astartes move in utter silence, the vacuum stilling all noise as they moved with exaggerated care and only way they could talk now was over the squad vox-links.

The Sergeant gazed over the scattered Demi-Company and saw Captain Toran; he was marching proudly with his head held high and his weapons gleaming in the brilliant sunlight. Zeax looked the Captain up and down, taking in his adornments of rank and found himself wondering if the officer was up to the task, they were being hunted by Xeno on an isolated world and if there wasn't enough there was a heretic out there plotting their deaths. Zeax wouldn't risk demoralising the Marines in his squad but personally he found the Captain to be far too young for his post, he was barely a hundred years old after all and he had only been elevated in the most desperate of circumstances.

Zeax had been a Veteran long before Toran had even been born and he had seen the worst that the galaxy had to throw at them, he knew all too well how cruel and unforgiving the nature of war could be and how utterly wrong everything could go. He knew others regarded him as brutal and direct but he preferred to think of it as being realistic, sometimes there was no good solution to a problem and the best way to deal with it was to accept that and do whatever it took to win. Zeax wondered if the Captain had yet accepted that reality or if he was still young enough and naive enough to think there was a good solution to every problem, an honourable way to win every battle.

As he thought on this Zeax crested the lip of the crater and saw the great dome of the colony was now close enough to make out details, it was a massive edifice that soared up and away in a great arc and it shimmered with the light of a magnetic field that held back the wash of radiation. Set around the dome's circumference were a dozen gun towers, each three stories high and crowned with a mighty turbo laser, set below those were the protruding barrels of lascanons and heavy bolters making them look like fossilised cactuses. Slightly off to one side was a great gate in the dome, flanked by a pair of the gun towers, it was sealed shut in the vacuum but it was a most inviting sight regardless.

Zeax felt a great rush of temptation to leap forwards and rush towards the welcome sight of the gate but his discipline held true and he led his squad in a Codex formation, ever wary for attack from any angle. It proved a wise precaution for suddenly there was a distant flash from the gun towers and the barren land off to Zeax's left erupted in a spray of superheated dust, the blast was instantly recognisable to someone who had spent a lifetime at war as were the implications: someone was firing lascanons at them.

Instantly the Space Marines reacted, without needing orders they scattered to make themselves harder targets and fell back to the crater seeking cover from the incoming fire. They were chased by a spray of Lascanon shots and Heavy Bolter rounds, the bolts being self-propelled rockets so unlike primitive stubbers the weapons functioned as well in the vacuum as they did in atmosphere. Yet just because the weapon functioned did not mean they did not require aiming, whoever was firing at them was poorly trained and did not know how to lead their targets, they were firing at where the Space Marines had been not where they were going to be and not one Astartes fell before they made it back to the crater.

The Space Marines dropped over the edge and regrouped instantly, taking up firing positions as rounds soared over their heads, Zeax heard Toran snarling on the vox, "Damnation, the heretic sets the PDF upon us!" Furion answered, "Rank amateurs, they should have let us close then obliterated us with the Turbo-lasers."

Brother Bylan spoke up in his mechanical wheeze, "+Can we take down the gun towers from here?+" Furion answered, "At this range no, not with these weapons." Persion cursed, "Abaddon's Balls! We should have brought Lascanons."

Zeax shook his head, self-recriminations were a useless waste of breath and he broke in to say, "Captain, the Strike Cruiser remains overhead, I recommend calling in an orbital strike and smashing us a path." Toran's helm shook in disagreement as he said, "The risk of collateral damage is too high, one percent of degree off course and the Magma-bombs will shatter the environmental dome killing all the Emperor's subjects."

Zeax snarled, "They may all be heretics" Toran replied calmly, "We do not know that, we are the Storm Heralds not the Marines Malevolent, we do not kill indiscriminately without first being certain of the need: we will find another way." Zeax clamped his mouth shut before he could blurt his incredulity; the naive officer was about to get a lot of Marines needlessly killed but there was nothing he could do about it. Yet whatever scheme Toran was concocting was interrupted by Furion bellowing "Looks like they remembered about the Turbo-Lasers!" Zeax looked up and saw that the Titan-grade weapons were indeed turning about to point in their direction.

Toran yelled, "Warp Hells, right forget clever schemes we will have to do this the hard way, everybody ready melta-bombs and as one: Charge!" Instantly the Demi-Company rose from cover and dashed forwards, weaving and dodging to make themselves harder targets, they sprinted towards the pair of gun towers flanking the gate as heavy fire fell all around them. The Heavy Bolters swept back and forth in long bursts, the crews obviously panicking at seeing Space Marines running at them but the Lascanons were a different matter altogether. Zeax swore as he saw one of his squad go down, it was brother Tharse and he took a Las blast to the belly that punched right through him, blood exploding out of his chest as he violently decompressed. Zeax saw another brother divert to aid him but snarled over the vox, "Leave him, he's already dead!"

The Astartes pressed forwards into the teeth of enemy fire, closing relentlessly despite everything the enemy could throw at them, the gun towers were getting larger and larger in their vision but as they closed the fire grew every more accurate and the Turbo-Lasers were lowering their aim. It had become a race now, between the running Astartes trying to reach the base of the gun-towers and the PDF gunners who were trying to target them. Zeax pushed himself harder and gritted his teeth as his armour roared but he could see that they were still too slow, the PDF were winning this race and when the Turbo-Lasers fired it would all be over. Zeax prepared himself for death but just as the mighty guns finally came into line something changed.

Without warning a series of explosions rang out from every level of the two gun towers, spraying dust everywhere in a filthy cloud to be snatched away by the vacuum. Torrents of air followed them out in a geyser of atmosphere and kicking struggling men were blown out with it, gasping and clawing for breath in the void as they died. The inexplicable explosions penetrated every level and section of the two towers venting them completely, the men within suffocating in moments and the guns fell silent.

Toran cried over the vox, "Don't stop, follow me!" as he ran into the suddenly open gap between the gun towers headed right for the looming gate. Zeax led his squad after him, reaching for a melta-bomb on his belt but it turned out to be unnecessary for before their eyes the gate was sliding back to reveal the glimmering shine of an atmospheric integrity field.

The Storm Heralds did not hesitate to dash inside feeling the eerie tingle of the field passing over their plate and the warm embrace of air all around them as they entered a large garage, they immediately fell into defensive positions but there were no defenders to be seen. They scanned the interior of the garage but found no enemies and no explanation for their unexpected reprieve, Zeax looked around befuddled and said, "What happened out there?"

A voice rang out of nowhere and answered, "That was us coming to your aid" everybody snapped about and forty-one weapons pointed into the shadows as an armoured figure stepped into the light, he was clad in dusky ceramite that had one single arm painted blue and he carried a Force Staff crested with a ram's skull. His pauldron bore the sigil of a leaping feline predator and his head was encircled by the unmistakable crown of a psychic hood.

Shade-Seer Imix bowed to them and said, "Welcome cousins, I am glad to see that you remain hale."


	13. Chapter 13

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 13**

Just inside the perimeter of the environmental dome the Astartes swept outwards, securing a beachhead in hostile territory with ruthless precision, ever wary for traps and counter attacks. The Storm Heralds moved with practiced efficiency to quarter and sweep the area but were distracted by the silhouettes of the Smoke Jaguars alongside them, they cast sly glances at their cousins and whispered over closed voxs that they should not be trusting such cowards and oath breakers.

The Storm Heralds were led by Sergeants Lorath and Zeax while the others were lagging behind, the Captain had needed to talk with Shade-Seer Imix and had brought Furion, Priyar and Mylos along to hear his explanations. The Captain had also brought brother Jediah to the meeting knowing his particular skills might prove necessary in this instance.

In a small chamber where no one could see them Jediah was holding Imix up against a wall, physically lifting him off the ground by the gorget as he snarled furious insults into his face, Imix for his part was being passive, not fighting back at all as the Storm Herald shook him angrily. The atmosphere was taut with the threat of violence and yet the Shade-Seer appeared calm and composed, utterly accepting of whatever fate awaited him.

"Oath-breaking Witch!" Jediah barked harshly with spit flying from his mouth, "I am going to carve my name into your corpse!"

Imix replied placidly, "Do what you must cousin, I shall not stop you."

Standing slightly behind the pair was Toran, he was watching proceedings with a façade of detachment but internally he was seething, this foreign Astartes had abandoned the Storm Heralds in battle and betrayed the bonds of brotherhood that bound all loyal sons of the Emperor wherever they hailed from. Toran fully understood Jediah's impulse to claim recompense in blood and yet the rational part of his mind was telling him that it would be a mistake, the Smoke-Jaguars had returned in a time of desperate need and saved many of his brother's lives. Toran did not want to listen to explanations or rationalisations yet there was a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispering that Imix had the power to smite them all if he called upon the Warp yet he had chosen not to.

Toran sighed and said "That's enough Jediah, put him down" the other Space Marine's eyes were lost in fury as he snapped round to glare at the Captain but Toran held his gaze determinedly as the two stared at each other for a long moment, then Jediah pulled back his fist and punched Imix in the face, snapping the head back before dropping him to the ground. Imix staggered for moment as he blinked then he regained his feet and said, "I thank you cousin for not using your knife to do that" Jediah snarled angrily and made to start forwards again but was brought up by Toran barking, "I said enough!"

The pair separated and Toran pointed an accusing finger at Imix as he growled, "You start talking, explain why you broke your oath to stand with us."

Imix rubbed his sore jaw and a hint of fire returned to his eyes at the accusation of not standing by his word but then he cast his eyes down in shame as he acknowledged what he had done and said, "Alas that I cannot."

None of the Storm Heralds liked that statement and everybody gathered round in furious anger but Toran held them back saying, "You need to do better than that or this will go badly for all of us, do you really want to start a blood feud over this?"

Imix's eyes snapped up and he stared for a long moment then reluctantly said, "My Chapter prizes its good relations with others, our Shade-Lord would not welcome us starting a feud with you… Perhaps you would understand if I told you that we were operating under conflicting orders."

Sergeant Mylos stepped up and said suspiciously, "What kind of orders?"

Imix looked away again and confessed, "The kind that relates to a matter of our ancestral legacy, a stain upon our honour committed by an accursed brother who long ago fell to the temptations of Chaos."

That made everybody lean back for there was not one Chapter in the galaxy who had not seen a handful of brethren fall to Chaos, each one a black mark upon an otherwise proud lineage and it was a mark of eternal shame that few would willingly talk of even behind closed doors. To admit to such a dishonour before another Chapter was a shocking confession and they all felt discomforted even hearing those words out loud, Toran could see what it had cost Imix to say that for his shame and contrition were written all over his face.

Whatever this long dead Traitor had done must have struck to the soul of the Smoke-Jaguars and he knew in similar circumstances that there was nothing he would not do to erase such a stain on his Chapter's honour. Even so he was not sure he could trust this Shade-Seer and he asked, "Tell me, were you aware that of this when you approached our Chapter?"

Imix looked stunned by that question and answered, "No never, I only suspected something when first we saw those maps but it was not until we entered the tunnels I knew for sure that our shame was so close."

Toran wasn't sure if he believed the Smoke Jaguar or not but asked, "And your honour... is it restored?"

Imix nodded and replied, "It is done, now we are here to fulfil our pledge and assist you in whatever way we can, we will not be known as oath-breakers."

Jediah barked, "You expect us to trust you Witch?!" as he started forwards with violence in his eyes.

Toran however held him back with a raised hand and said, "We have already found the Traitor's base, it was deserted but you can start your redemption by telling us what you know of the PDF attack: are they all corrupted?"

Imix shook his head and said, "I probed one of their officer's minds, they knew nothing save that someone ordered them to fire on anyone approaching the colony, I doubt they would have complied had they been informed it was the Sun-Emperor's Space Marines. Beyond that they had no orders, now I feel them milling about in confusion with no idea what to do next."

Sergeant Furion spoke up at that and said, "That means the corruption is not wide spread and may be limited to a few high ranking individuals, we can root out this heresy if we can expose them."

Toran said, "The planetary Governor is the most likely candidate to be issuing such orders, if not him then someone within his court. We must investigate the Palace and learn who the heretics are; they are the ones who can lead us to the vile Eldar."

Imix interjected, "Allow us to offer recompense for our deeds, my Smoke-Jaguars can infiltrate the Palace and find the answers you seek." Jediah snorted in derision and declared, "I don't trust this witch to be out of our sight for a second, let alone go sneaking off on his own."

Toran wouldn't have put it quite so bluntly but he agreed with the sentiment as he said, "I accept that your honour forced you onto a dubious path but I must insist that your squad remain here in case the PDF makes another move, we will accompany you." Imix raised an eyebrow at that and cautiously said, "Stealth is not your strongest asset, infiltration will be extremely difficult with your presence." Jediah said, "So use your witchcraft to shroud us."

Toran was extremely nonplussed by that idea, the last thing he wanted to do was to encourage the use of Warpcraft but he would not contradict his brother in public so said, "That could work." Imix however looked deeply uncertain and said, "My gifts are not impenetrable, much depends on going unnoticed and a squad of Astartes will draw attention no matter what… I could not possibly shroud more than two of you and even that will strain my abilities."

Toran felt an icy shiver crawling down his spine at the thought of deploying the Warp so brazenly but tried to look confident as he said, "Very well, myself and one other will accompany you into the Palace." Jediah leapt in and said, "I am coming too, you will need my knife if this witch proves false."

Toran was about to agree with that but before he could speak Furion spun about and said, "Sir, you cannot go on this mission." Everybody tensed up at that pronouncement and Toran was shocked as he said, "You had better explain why not."

"Permission to speak freely" Furion said and when Toran nodded he continued, "Captain the risks are too great, you cannot put yourself in that position, not when there are others to go in your stead." Toran snapped "What do you mean?"

Sergeant Mylos agreed saying, "What he means is that you are the one person who cannot go on this assignment." Toran frowned and declared, "I will not ask any man to take a risk I would not take myself."

Furion sighed and said, "That is very commendable but while you embrace the risks to yourself you have not considered the risks to your company, if you die out there then you forsake your Marines and leave them leaderless. You are our commander and you have a duty to your men as they have a duty to you, it is commendable to lead from the front but that does not mean undertaking every single job yourself, you must learn when to delegate."

Toran wasn't convinced by this argument and said, "This assignment will be perilous to anybody who goes, I will not shirk from danger." Mylos shook his head and said, "I said I would tell you when you were making a mistake and now you are making a serious blunder, a Captain's place is with his company not off sulking about in shadows. You have competent sergeants here willing to serve, let them go in your stead."

Toran stared at his Sergeants conflicted as what to do, on one hand he knew they spoke sense, to leave his Company now would be to abandon his men but still the idea of sending another into danger instead ran counter to every instinct and he was locked in an impasse for heartbeat. It was Sergeant Priyar who broke the deadlock by saying, "Be fair Captain don't hog all the glory, try to leave some for the rest of us."

Toran let out a short bark of laughter at the jest and smiled as a solution was presented, he looked at his brothers and said, "Far be it from me to act the glutton, very well Priyar you shall go with Imix into the Palace, take Jediah with you and try to keep him out of trouble."

Everyone relaxed at that statement as Toran declared, "Imix, this is your chance to show your quality, help us find answers and I shall put aside our quarrel… for now."

Imix bowed and said, "As you command so shall it be, the Smoke-Jaguars shall not be known as oath breakers while I draw breath."


	14. Chapter 14

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 14**

The Governor's Palace was a place of buzzing activity and constant intrigue, lowly servants and important potentates going to and fro about their business with typical haste. People were milling everywhere as they dashed to and fro with urgent reports or occasionally pausing to hand documents over to nondescript individuals who took them with furtive eyes before ducking out of sight.

In that sort of environment it should have been impossible for even one Space Marine to pass unnoticed, their mere presence drawing eyes and leaving whispers in their wake but today three of them were walking along only to be completely ignored. Pacing slowly along the corridors and halls of power was Sergeant Priyar who held his power maul loosely as he walked, with him was Brother Jediah who grasped a Fractal edged short sword and also Shade-Seer Imix who was holding his staff vertically before him in both hands as his face screwed up in concentration.

Priyar was finding the experience distinctly odd, he was accustomed to mortals reacting to his awesome bulk with either shocked awe or bowel loosening terror, having them ignore him was a completely new sensation yet this journey was not nearly as bizarre as he had thought it would be. The Sergeant had expected to feel a cold tingle of otherworldly energies over his body, he had expected shimmering glamour's and odd colours to envelop them as the Shade-Seer employed his eldritch arts but there was nothing to see and to the Space Marines it was just like any ordinary stroll.

The trio walked slowly and evenly for Imix had warned them that his shroud could only work if they could act unremarkable and discretely, Priyar had wondered how in the name of Terra an eight foot warrior wearing armour more suited to a tank was supposed to pass unnoticed but it seemed to be working. It was strange to watch actually, the milling crowds would never actually step out of their way but somehow a gap always conveniently opened up before them as the crowd merely chanced to sway out of the way and then close up behind them without comment.

Priyar watched gaggles of clerks abruptly finish their conversations and break up just as they approached, grand madams in overwrought gowns suddenly pause to admire faded artwork and even those whose eyes landed upon the Astartes found their sight glazing over leaving them with the odd impression that they had forgotten something important. Priyar tensed as a clerk bustled right at them grasping a pile of loose parchments to his chest, there was no way he could miss running into the Space Marines and yet one second before the collision he suddenly seemed to come under the impression that he had dropped something and spun about to scour the floor as the Astartes passed onward.

Priyar glanced at Imix, seeing the concentration writ all over his face and knew that the Shade-Seer was reaching out to twist minds and turn thoughts allowing them passage, the strain of channelling the power of the Warp must have been intense for Imix looked like he was in pain and he gripped his staff like it was a terrible weight. Priyar wasn't entirely sure if he trusted the Librarian after all that had occurred but he seemed earnest in his desire to make recompense and the Captain had decided to give him an opportunity to prove his intent, it said a lot about Toran that he had been willing to do that.

Priyar had seen many Space Marines worn down by a lifetime of constant war, many veterans would become jaded like Zeax or brutal pugilists like Lorath, Furion had lost his personal ambition and had devoted his energies into mentoring others while Mylos had become cynical to the core. Priyar himself had never harboured ambitions of rising to high command, he had told his squad to focus on being the best the Astartes they could be, but he recognised the latent potential in Captain Toran and he was sure with a few decades of seasoning the young officer would rise to greatness. Yet if there was one thing about their company he was disturbed by it was the band the Captain chose to surround himself with.

Furion was a brother to be respected but as for the rest of the command squad, well, Novak was interested in nothing save his bladework and Persion had a savage's disregard for petty rules and protocols. Bylan was too fixated on tagging on behind the Captain, as for Jediah the Sergeant had barely heard two words from him outside of battle and what he had heard did not fill him with confidence.

Priyar looked over at Jediah and saw that the Space Marine was staring at passing dignitaries and servants with a predatory mien, even under his helm it was obvious that he was planning how best to slide his blade into each body. Priyar opened a private vox link and sub vocalised, "Stay your hand, do nothing to draw attention."

Jediah said, "We should be killing this scum, not sneaking about."

Priyar stated, "We do not know if the loyalty of these people is compromised, they may be faithful or they may be heretics."

Jediah scoffed, "What's the difference?"

Priyar was startled to hear that and stated, "We are the Emperor's finest, we do not slaughter innocents without good cause!"

Jediah snorted and said, "Open your eyes everybody is guilty of something and we've slaughtered more than our fair share of innocents, how many die every time we drop Magma-bombs on a planet, how many die every time we carve a path through a city to kill one heretic?"

Priyar rebuked him, "Do you really think so little of our brother's honour?"

Jediah cocked his head and said, "Our brothers let themselves be distracted by notions of honour and pride, they prefer to think of the Astartes as akin to the mythic heroes of proto-history: Odysseus, Achylles, Herakles or Kig-Artur rather than face the truth. Don't let romantic notions distract you from the fact that the Space Marines were forged by the Emperor to be weapons, engines to drive his conquests; our purpose is nothing more than to kill anything that threatens Terra's rule."

Priyar had never heard such callousness from a brother, honour and duty were everything to the Astartes and the thought of a Space Marine who fought only to kill was disturbing indeed, he had seen Jediah in battle and knew he did not just enjoy battle he relished it. Priyar knew there was no way that any warrior could ascend into the ranks of the initiates without first proving their unbreakable loyalty and total commitment to the Chapter but he suspected that there was something off with this brother, perhaps the Captain did not keep him close for familiarity but rather to keep a sharp eye on him.

Priyar lapsed into an uncomfortable silence as they passed the milling functionaries and they penetrated deeper into the Palace, the crowds were thinning out now as petty functionaries and civilians gave way to serious men in sombre suits and armed guards. Priyar saw that the journey was taking a toll on Imix for his face was sweating and his eyes were screwed up in concentration, his pace had a hint of a stagger and his staff looked like it weighed as much as a Rhino transport.

Then the three of them found themselves approaching a wide ascending staircase that was guarded by blank helmed soldiers who stopped and searched everybody before waving them past, yet the guards didn't even blink as the Space marines walked confidently up to them. Unfortunately while Imix's power turned away the guard's eyes and stopped their ears he could not do the same to automated defences and as the Space Marines set foot upon the first step an Auspex servitor started wailing loudly,

Priyar almost raised his weapon but paused when he heard Imix groan and draw ever deeper upon the Warp, letting its otherworldly power flow into his consciousness in a torrent. Priyar saw the guard's eyes glaze over for second as the Shade-Seer reached into their minds and then a soldier cursed loudly before thwacking the Servitor hard with his open hand as he muttered about endless glitches and gremlins, the Space Marines walked on as the guards waved an engineseer over only to break out into an argument when the lay tech-adept insisted there was nothing wrong with the servitor.

The trio ascended to a higher floor which must have been reserved for the most influential dignitaries for the milling clerks and hangers-on were absent here, in fact the corridors were practically empty. Priyar expected Imix to straighten up but if anything he seemed wearier than ever, practically hunching over as much as his armour would allow and his arms shook with effort as he gripped his staff.

Priyar reached out to aid him but withdrew his hand when Imix shook his head a micro fraction, the Sergeant realised that while the crowds were absent the pict-thieves and concealed auspexes would not be, the Shade-Seer must be casting his mind out further than ever to remain undetected. There was nothing to be done save hurry onward and the trio quickened their pace as they at last found themselves in familiar chambers, these were the outer ante-chambers of the Governor's court and it was not far to their goal.

Priyar was growing concerned for they still had to find the information they sought and withdraw undetected, Imix looked spent just getting them in here and the Sergeant doubted he had strength left to escort them out again, he suspected that they would have to fight their way out soon. He was proved both utterly right and dead wrong when their enhanced hearing suddenly heard the sounds of fighting from ahead, Jediah and Priyar glanced at each other and without needed to speak broke out into a quick trot as Imix lagged behind gasping for air.

The trio sped through the ante-chamber where they had previously waited and dashed into the court room to find a most unexpected surprise, the scene of a battle. In a huddled knot a handful of guards were desperately trying to defend themselves and their charge, the Governor himself who had collapsed into an ungainly heap with a large serrated dagger sticking out of his belly as his lifeblood poured out.

Confronting them were a half dozen lithe figures in patchy armour that revealed bare flesh, they were leaping over the guard's clumsy blows and laughing merrily as they slashed and tore at human flesh, it was the Eldar Wyches and they were effortlessly slaughtering the guards. In heartbeat the Wyches danced past the guard's ham-fisted efforts to fight back and cut them down with delicate blows that would have looked gentle had they not left men bleeding out on the cold floor.

Priyar felt his righteous ire flare as the last guard fell and he activated his power maul in a blaze of lightning, the noise attracted the Wyches attention and as one they spun about and sprinted towards the newcomers. The Sergeant saw that the three of them were outnumbered and about to enter a fight with beings who were as trained and deadly as they were, Priyar knew they would need an overwhelming advantage to win this fight and he shouted "Imix we need your aid, unleash your power!" but only silence came back.

The Sergeant spared one single second to glance behind him and was stunned by what he saw: Imix was doubled over gasping for air, clinging to his staff lest he fall down. Priyar was stunned to realise that the Shade-Seer's power was spent, they would have to fight the Eldar the old fashioned way.


	15. Chapter 15

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 15**

In the Governor's courtroom all was bedlam, dead men piled everywhere as they slowly cooled and Governor Makham lay bleeding out as his movements grew feeble and weak, amid that carnage three armoured giants fought twice as many flipping and laughing aliens in a struggle to decide the fate of a world. Sergeant Priyar was lashing out left and right at alien bodies with his power maul but they dove and summersaulted around his strikes and he could not land a telling blow, in return their knives darted and bit at his plates scoring the surface and nicking at the joints.

As he lashed about he could see from the corner of his eye that Jediah was having similar trouble, the Eldar slipping around his Fractal edged short sword as he stabbed impotently at the air, one Eldar met his blade with a parry and it looked like he had an opening but the Wych spun like silk on the breeze and pirouetted past him. He tried to follow but as he turned another Wych darted in and ripped a blade across the back of his knee joint and he stumbled as transhuman blood spilled out. Elsewhere Imix was beset by a pair of Wyches, his psychic strength was exhausted but he remained an Astartes and used his Force weapon as a quarterstaff, he blocked and parried as best he was able but he was slowed by his weariness and it was taking all his strength to merely defend himself.

Suddenly one of the Wyches shrieked in an almost pleasurable pitch and dashed forwards, angling a wickedly sharp blade at Priyar's throat, the Sergeant raised his maul to counter only to realise too late he had been deceived. Another Wych darted in from the side and stabbed up under his raised arm; cutting deeply into his flesh and tearing along his ribs, a few inches deeper and it would have pierced his right heart. Priyar snarled in anger and swept his arm clumsily about but the Eldar danced away with a wicked cackle leaving him clubbing at air, he switched to hold his maul in his left hand but knew that it was futile. The fight was turning against the Space Marines and they were dying by a thousand cuts, unless they defeated their foes swiftly all would be lost.

Priyar threw caution to the winds and risked lowering his defence to raise his power maul high above his head, the Eldar sensed his vulnerability and dived towards him but before they could strike he roared and swept his maul down to smash into the ground. The moment the head touched the floor an actinic blast was released, a flare of light and concussive energies spilling outwards in all directions like a frag grenade going off. The Space Marines were rocked back on their feet as their power armour struggled to compensate for the detonation but the Eldar fared far worse, the shockwave catching them in mid-leap and flinging them off balance. The Xeno tried to ride the blast but even they could not compensate totally and for one single second the Eldar were stunned, in that moment the Space Marines attacked, pouncing upon their foes like great felines leaping upon a mouse.

Jediah dived on a thrashing Eldar and plunged his sword into her heart and Imix stomped into the fray swinging his Force staff left and right to shatter skulls and snap limbs, meanwhile Priyar pounded forward smashing his power maul down over and over to break spines and stove in ribcages. In mere seconds the Space Marines had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat and one last Eldar Wych was left flopping on the ground, she almost managed to flip back onto her feet but before she could rise Priyar stepped on her head and put all his weight upon it, the flimsy skull imploded and the Eldar was reduced to a gory puddle around his boot.

As the fight ended silence descended and the Space Marines took stock, the room was piled high with bodies and the stench of death pervaded everything as the corpses voided their bowels. The Space Marines had won their fight but it may have proved too little, too late for while they had been battling the Governor had gone deathly pale and blood had stopped spilling from his violated guts, Priyar walked over to the body and checked for a pulse but found nothing and he sighed in disappointment. He leaned back and said, "Dead, we will get nothing from him, whatever secrets he had go with him to the grave."

Jediah refuted him, "Not necessarily" as he pulled a short dirk from his belt and paced forwards with a hungry glint in his eye. Priyar realised what his brother was proposing for among the many implants an Astartes received was the Omophagea, a deceptively simple organ that could sift organic matter and draw out information at a genetic level. Using this organ a Space Marine could actually ingest a person's or animal's memories and racial instincts thus learning from the experience, the only drawback was the implant lay in the stomach which meant the Astartes had to eat the brain first. Priyar had undergone the ritual during his training but had not done so again since and he had always found it repugnant, Jediah however looked almost eager as he knelt down and began sawing his blade into the scalp of the Governor's corpse, peeling back the skin and bone to reveal the brain beneath.

Imix and Priyar backed off to give him space to work and swept the room for threats but found none, the room was deserted save themselves and the piles of corpses yet they were too disciplined to lower their guard and kept a sharp eye for danger. It proved a wise precaution for a few moments later a scrum of guards ran into the room waving lasguns and crying out for the Governor, coming too late to the fight to make any difference.

The guards pulled up short when they saw the piles of bodies and the bloodied Space Marines standing over them, the fools instantly leapt to the wrong conclusion and pointed their weapons at the Astartes in panicked confusion. Normally such an act would warrant instant death, the Astartes did not tolerate threats but Priyar had no wish to slaughter innocents today even if they were fools and barked angrily, "Point those flashlights somewhere else or we will take them from your cold dead hands!"

The men reacted immediately, they had been raised from birth to obey authority and the Space Marines were figures of childhood legends to them. There was no question of them disobeying yet one man, a corporal, seemed to possess a spine for he piped up, "What happened here?"  
Priyar spat, "Vile Eldar have murdered your Governor and we punished them for it."

The corporal swallowed and said, "You will have to come with us to answer some questions."  
Imix leaned slightly so he loomed over the huddled men and many of them went pale as he growled, "Try it."

Then the guards spied Jediah bending over the Governor's corpse to tear chunks of brain matter from the scalp less head and swallow them with a feral glint in his eye, the Corporal raised his gun once more and gasped, "What foul sorcery is this?!" Priyar slapped the gun from his hands so fast the man had no time to even pull the trigger and the rest of the guards fell back in terror as the Sergeant spat, "This is the work of the Emperor's Angels, try to interfere and I will kill you."

The looming argument was averted as Jediah dropped the governor skull, now vacant of brain matter and spat a gobbet of grey neural tissue to the ground declaring, "There was no trace of betrayal in his memories and he knew nothing about the Xenos, he was not the Traitor we seek." The assembled guards shrank back from the fearsome sight of the Space Marine with cerebral fluid covering his chin and many of them looked like they wanted to run from the room but were too scared to move.

Priyar's hearts sank at the pronouncement, for a moment he believed that they had failed in their mission but then Jediah turned and stomped over the cooling bodies to pick up a bleeding Wych by the back of her neck. The Eldar dangled helplessly from his fist and the limpness of her legs left it clear that her spine was shattered yet she still breathed, Jediah effortlessly threw the broken Eldar at Imix's feet and declared, "This one is only feigning death; tear what you need from its mind."

Priyar cocked his head and said, "Imix have you recovered strength enough to use your arts?"  
Imix looked at the Eldar in disgust and said, "You want me to delve into a Xeno's mind?"

His tone made it sound like they had asked him to swim naked in raw sewage but Priyar insisted, "This may be our only opportunity to find the truth."  
Imix's face screwed up in disgust and resentment but he still said, "If there is no other way then I shall do it."

The Eldar quit pretending to be dead and tried to shake free but Jediah's grip was an iron vice clamped around her neck, Imix leaned in and drew back his lips over his teeth as he snarled, "This will not be gentle, resist or not as you will but either way I shall not be denied and there will not be much left of your mind afterwards."

The guards looked on in horror as Imix slapped his gauntlet over the Wych's head and she began to convulse, the Eldar shook and drooled as Imix ripped her mental defences apart, she beat her clenched fists futilely on ceramite armour but she was powerless to resist as her mind was vivisected and systematically carved into pieces by the Shade-Seer's psychic scalpels. The Dark Eldar let out a thin scream of horror as she felt Imix destroying her soul's protections against the Warp and her essence was drained away by her race's all pervasive nightmare, the monster of their own creation that stalked them from birth, then her eyes rolled up into her skull and she fell limp.

Imix pulled back his hands and said, "I feel befouled, its entire being was polluted by the essence of Chaos, I felt the Prince of Excess consuming the mind even as I tried to read it."  
Jediah casually snapped the neck of the drooling sack of meat that was once a Dark Eldar as he asked, "But did you get what we need?"

Imix nodded and said, "I did, I managed to pull the hidden identity of the heretic from the Eldar's soul before it was devoured, I know who betrayed the Imperium."  
Priyar was pleased to hear that and said, "Then we must return to the Company, at last we are in a position to take the battle to the enemy."

"You are leaving?!" the Corporal protested, "But what about this mess, what of the Governor!"  
Jediah snapped his head around and snarled, "Never stand between an Astartes and his foes, we are leaving... Now."  
Priyar agreed and declared, "First we shall hunt down the heretic and exact vengeance upon them and then the Eldar shall feel our wrath, it is time for the Emperor's Finest to go on the offensive!"


	16. Chapter 16

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 16**

Under the artificial sky of the great dome fire and death had reigned as squads of Astartes launched a blitzkrieg raid, they had run in staggered waves into the teeth of enemy fire as las rounds and shotgun pellets pattered harmlessly off their armour. Their target was a slab sided tower that loomed over the slums with brutal mass and cast unforgiving shadows over all who stood before it, the building was a symbol of the implacability of imperial justice for it was the Arbites garrison fortress but today judgement was being brought down upon it.

The Storm Heralds had fallen upon the Imperial bastion with fury in their hearts as they sought out the heretic hiding within, the Judges for their part stood against them but the Space Marines had their target now and nothing would stand between them and the accursed First Marshall Maximillian. Perhaps if the Arbites had been able to utilise their heavy weapon emplacements then they could have held their line for a time but the wall guns sat silent and their vehicles had been sealed within their garages unable to deploy. The Space Marines had not questioned this stroke of good fortune; they had merely exploited it to the full and stormed the walls then driven the blank helmed judges before them in an avalanche of fiery retribution.

Now Captain Toran was leading his command squad higher and higher up the tower as he sought out their target, his blade was wet with the blood of the Arbites and his fury was growing with every man he slew. Perhaps not all those who opposed them were truly corrupt, perhaps they had merely been following orders but they had still made the mistake of standing of the way of the Emperor's wrath and for that crime there could be no mercy.

As they climbed another flight of steps Toran was communicating on the vox, "Lorath, report."

A voice came back briskly, "Landing pad secured and all vultures disabled."

Toran stated, "Hold your position, the heretic must not escape that way. Zeax what's your situation?"

A different voice returned, "The Arbites tried to mass for a counter attack up the tower but our Heavy Bolters put a short, sharp stop to that."

Toran ordered, "Keep the lower level secured, nothing must interfere while we, Priyar and Mylos sweep the base for the heretic, what of Imix and the Smoke-Jaguars?"

Persion answered him for the communication specialist had been tasked with liaising between the disparate Chapters, "They keep dropping off the grid but I am intercepting reports of monsters appearing from nowhere in the outer barracks, no doubt our cousins are keeping themselves busy."

Toran nodded as he reflected on how stunned they had been when Imix had brought word of the identity of the heretic, Persion had been most vocal in his reckoning that it would be one of the heads of the mining guilds, so it had been deeply shocking that an Imperial officer could consort with Xenos and every one of the Astartes was outraged by the betrayal. As they advanced the squad was on a hair trigger, ready with weapons poised to strike at the slightest target and their usual camaraderie was absent, driven out by their ire and now they were in battle their focus was on prosecuting their duties.

As they reached the top of the stairs a hidden figure leapt out already swinging a shock maul but he was no match for an Astartes stoked on combat stims, Novak effortlessly blocked the blow with his combat shield and struck back so fast his arm seemed to blur as he struck the head off the Judge. The body fell to ground in a spray of blood revealing an ornate door behind and Novak bounded forwards, his armoured bulk smashing the door to kindling as he dived within. For once this was not bravado on his part, for as Company Champion it was his sacred duty to confront enemy warlords head on and always be first into danger.

Everybody tensed expecting the sounds of combat but there was only silence, the squad approached and entered with bolt pistols raised to find themselves within a large but plain chamber bereft of decorations or laurels. The room was furnished sparsely and was dominated by a large desk, made of functional plasteel not precious Nalwood as was customary for many high ranking Imperials. Sitting at the desk were three bodies, one in rich robes and another with dirty coveralls, these two were reclined backwards with their features slackened by death and smoking craters on their foreheads attested to the las blasts that had ended their lives.

Sitting across from them was the third person and this one was still alive, it was First Marshall Maximillian sitting forlornly with his head bowed and his hands flat on the desk, there was a red hot las pistol between his hands but he made no move towards it and the Astartes could easily gun him down if he so much as twitched. Toran waved the squad back a pace and stepped forwards declaring, "First Marshall you are accused of treason and consorting with vile Xeno's, your guilt has been proven beyond doubt and we are here to enact justice upon you."

Maxmillian did not look up at his executioners but said, "My men, did they resist?"

Toran nodded and declared, "They did fight back… briefly."

Maxmillian sighed and said dejectedly, "I told them to stand down as soon as I realised you were coming for me but they didn't understand, even when I shut down the perimeter guns they wouldn't listen to me."

Toran said, "You confess your crimes then, you admit to consorting with Xenos, you were the one who sent them to kill us and faked orders to the PDF, you sent the Dark Eldar to assassinate the Governor!"

Maxmillian breathed for a second and then said, "I did it, I did it all but it was all for the Imperium."

Furion started forwards angrily at that and barked, "How dare you impugn the Imperium, the Emperor would never sanction any of this!"

Maximillian shook his head and said, "It had to be done, I need you to understand that it had to be done. Eight years ago some of the abandoned mines collapsed, several hydroponic farms were destroyed and the rest couldn't support the population, we were facing mass starvation."

"So that's it?" snarled Novak, "You sold out your species for food?"

Maximillian looked up at last and a hint of defiance returned to his eye as he said, "Have you ever seen a famine because I have and let me tell you it's never the criminals who starve, those who prey upon the weak and innocent take what they want and leave the rest to suffer but that's just the start. If word got out then we would have faced mass riots and looting, panic and hysteria as people fought over scraps and the collapse our whole society!"

"So you decided to act" growled Toran.

Maximillian stared at them and said, "The only option was to reduce the population but that coward of a Governor didn't have the stones to give the order so I sent a signal to Athra J'rect offering him our worst scum and villains, I sent my Arbites to round up those that contributed nothing and only take, I told them it was just routine cleansings of the sink-slums and they obeyed without question."

"And your co-conspirators?" asked Toran.

Maximillian gestured at the cooling bodies and said, "This one thought he could usurp Ricko Dumman as head of the mining guilds if the Eldar limited their raids to the other clans and this one, well we paid him handsomely for his gang's muscle. As soon as they heard you had returned they came running to me, begging me to take them off-world but I told them a man should stand by his deeds and take the consequences… they didn't like that and went for their guns but I was faster."

"So you regret nothing?" barked Furion angrily, "You do not repent your deeds?!"

Maximillian snorted and said, "The Imperium charged me with keeping law and order in this pit and that's what I did, I thought upon the numbers every day that passed and I found that I had sold two million of the worst scum into slavery and saved ten million innocents. Nobody ever wants to know what it takes to enforce the law but they all want to live under its protection."

Toran looked down in disgust upon the unrepentant First Marshall saying, "And what does Imperial Law dictate as to the fate of heretics, traitors and consorters with Xeno?"

Maxmillian lip drew out into a wry smile and he nodded in acceptance, then with a half dozen bolters pointed at him he reached slowly into a drawer and withdrew a dataslate, he tossed it onto the surface of his desk saying, "You will need this, Athra J'rect thinks I don't know about this but he is not half as smart as he thinks he is… I would wish you luck but I am sure you won't need it."

Then as everyone watched he declared, "I stand guilty of heresy in the first degree and by writ of imperial law the sentence is death." Maxmillian's hand jerked towards his laspistol and he snatched it up, the Space Marines watched him do it for their reaction times were so fast that they could have blown him to bits before his finger would have tightened on the trigger yet they did not need to do so. With the eyes of the Emperor's Angels upon him First Marshall Maximillian jammed his laspistol into his mouth and pulled the trigger, blasting a searing beam of energy into his head and killing himself instantly.

The gathered squad looked upon the dead Arbiter and found not a trace of pity or regret in their hearts, this man had betrayed the principles of the Imperium as laid down by the Emperor and by His laws justice had been done. Nobody spoke any epithets or benedictions for the heretics deserved none, they would be carried from here and thrown into a nameless grave to be forever forgotten by the Imperium of Man.

Persion lowered his bolt pistol and paced over to the desk then he cautiously picked up the data slate as if expecting it to explode and examined it in detail, the rest of the squad turned their backs on the dead heretics and gathered round to hear what they had found. Persion looked up and passed the slate around saying, "Co-ordinates and a basic layout for an Eldar base of operations, it's out on the surface and well concealed, we would never have found it from orbit without this."

Toran took the slate and said, "We are done here, gather the squads and signal Imix to withdraw we are not going to wait around any longer, we strike at once and drive the Xeno filth from this world."

Persion hesitated for a second and said, "That base is a long way from anywhere and there is no cover on the surface, they will see us coming."

Toran snorted and said, "No, they will not see this coming I can assure you of that."


	17. Chapter 17

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 17**

Across the barren surface of Clom three squads of Storm Heralds advanced in a wide combat spread, their Thunderhawks had dropped them off as close to the Eldar base as they dared but now they must make the rest of the way on foot. They had marched for leagues through the radiation soaked dead lands but last they were in a position to strike and every one of them felt the keen thrill of anticipation coursing along their nerves as they commenced the final battle.

Commanding the strike force was Sergeant Priyar who was leading from the front, with him were twenty seven brothers of the Storm Heralds and Apothecary Memnos, all ready for action and eager to avenge their dead. Priyar glanced to the right and saw Zeax leading his devastators with heavy bolters primed and to his left was Mylos with his combi-plasma shining, the other Sergeant had thought he would be in command but Priyar had seniority and had served in First Company so authority fell to him.

Ahead Priyar could see a faint shimmer, looking almost like a heat haze which should have been impossible on this airless world. It was the only indication of the Dark Eldar's location and while it was barely perceptible from the ground it had proven totally impenetrable from orbit and the Imperial's auspex had testified that there was nothing here as its machine spirit was tricked by alien techno-sorcery. Priyar signalled the squads to deploy knowing that if he could see the Eldar then they could see him too and called over the company vox channel, "Brothers the enemy is in sight: gird your souls for battle."

As the squads spread out to create a kill box of overlapping crossfires Zeax said, "I still say we should just obliterate this Xeno infestation from orbit."

Priyar disagreed saying, "The Silent Hunter cannot even see this nest, we could fire off every Magma-bomb in the magazines and not come within a league of hitting anything important."

Zeax said, "Then just level the whole area with an air strike, saturation bombardment of the entire zone using Thunderhawks."

Mylos broke in on the vox to say, "You saw the depth of the ground to air defences on the schematics, no Thunderhawk could get close enough to launch, they would be torn from the sky before they could fire a single missile. Besides you know how slippery the Eldar can be, at the first hint that they were threatened they would disappear and we would not see them again until they slipped a knife into our backs."

Priyar agreed saying, "You all know the plan: our three squads attack from the front to lure the Eldar out into a set piece battle while the Captain and Lorath assault the base from an unexpected direction."

"Straight out of the Codex Astartes" said Mylos approvingly, "But that is not what worries me, my concern is that this whole plan revolves around the Smoke-Jaguars successfully infiltrating ahead of the assault and opening the way."

Priyar asked, "You don't think they are up to it?"

Mylos replied, "It's not a question of skill but of trust, they have already crossed us once."

Priyar shook his head and said, "I have seen Imix in action, his heart is true… if a little exotic."

"We shall see" said Mylos with a suspicious tone.

Zeax suddenly yelled, "I hate to interrupt but here they come!"

Priyar magnified his autosenses and saw a dozen tiny dart like shapes skimming towards them from the direction of the base and as the Storm Heralds raised their weapons he voxed, "Captain Toran this is Sergeant Priyar, enemy has been sighted and we are engaging." A voice carried back over the vox from far away, "Sergeant Priyar this is Captain Toran, engage the Xenos and draw out as many out as you can, keep their attention fixed upon you until the Smoke-Jaguars have completed their objective."

Priyar shut off the vox with a click and focussed upon the approaching foe, as they grew larger he could see there were three large Eldar skimmers of the Raider designation flanked by an assortment of smaller craft he identified as Jetbikes. The crews were clad in dark purple armour which was sealed against the vacuum and they were all of the warrior caste with no sign of Wyches anywhere, Priyar didn't know if that meant they had succeeded in drawing out the bulk of the enemy force or if this was just a skirmishing party but he could only trust that it would be enough.

As he watched the Jetbikes poured on speed and leapt ahead of the Raider craft, swooping and banking around each other in a dizzying display, such manoeuvres should have been impossible with no air present but their anti-gravitic fields seemed operate on different principles to Imperial craft. Priyar could not hear the Eldar as all was silence outside his helm but he could imagine them shrieking with joy and ecstasy as they lusted for combat and raced to be the first to claim a kill.

As the Jetbikes entered extreme weapons range Priyar ordered, "Zeax, the first kill is yours" and instantly the Devastator squad's Heavy Bolters erupted in streams of fire, vomiting miniature bolt-rockets at a tremendous pace. The Eldar reacted with blurring speed and dizzying skill as they swerved and jinked around the lines of tracers, they moved with velocity no human could achieve but they were too accustomed to fighting conscripts or Guardsmen and did not allow for the peerless brotherhood of the Astartes.

The devastators did not fire individually but worked together as a team with the precision that only of thousands of hours of practice could bring, two of the brothers would fire around their target bracketing it into a confined space while the other two would fill the space with hurtling bolt rounds. Trapped and boxed in one jetbike went into a fatal spin as its gravitic motor was clipped, a second plunged nose first as it was riddled with explosive holes and a third inexplicably exploded as something vital in its mechanisms was shattered. The barrage was deadly and stunning but the Eldar recovered in moments and pressed onwards launching their own assault.

It lasted for a single second as the jetbikes hurtled past at maximum velocity and the riders struck out with knives and daggers to score ceramite armour and rip power cables, Priyar ducked instinctively and only received a ringing blow to the helm but he saw his squad brother Jered falling with his whole head decapitated. The Eldar raced onward and were chased by random bolts but every shot missed and Priyar called, ""Hold your fire brothers, wait for my word!"

Priyar knew the Eldar would not be satisfied with only one pass and sure enough the jetbikes turned about to come in again seeking the thrill of killing, if they had expected to find a shattered and broken foe then they would be tragically disappointed for the Space Marines held their formation and tracked their targets relentlessly. Priyar held back for a heart beat until he saw the Eldar were almost upon them then yelled, "Now brothers!" Instantly every weapon fired and the Eldar found themselves engulfed by bolts, plasma and melta fire, jetbike after jetbike was blasted to bits and in a few seconds the first wave of the attack had been annihilated.

Priyar saw Apothecary Memnos racing over to Jered's corpse to harvest the sacred gene-seed but there was no time to observe the last rites for while they had been distracted the Raiders had closed. Even as the Space Marines spun to meet them the Eldar warriors were firing, unleashing their foul weapons in a torrent, Priyar felt shards pinging off his plate as he struggled to present his front to the enemy and saw one of the Raiders fire a Dark Lance fitted to its prow. The weapon erupted in a midnight corona and the beam shot forth to clip another brother of Priyar's squad, it was Brother Gorfan and the blast disintegrated his left arm in a heartbeat leaving him staggering as he dropped his melta gun.

Priyar ducked as the Raider sped past and broke away for another pass, he heard Sergeant Mylos shouting, "Damnation where are the Smoke-Jaguars, how long does this take?"

Priyar overrode him crying, "Stand fast brothers and hold the line, we are the anvil upon which they shall be broken!"

The squads rallied at the Sergeant's cry and presented arms in determination to punish the Xeno for their arrogance, as the Raider spun about it was chased by a storm of bolts that clipped and dented its armour but it pressed on regardless. Just as it was about to bring its Dark Lance to bear once more a shining ball of plasma sailed over the prow and shot past the stunned crew, the shot had come from Mylos and the marksman's incredible aim let him shoot past all the passengers and hit the driver full on in the chest. The Raider instantly lost control and went into a dive and it ploughed nose first into the barren ground, purple bodies were scattered everywhere and the Space Marines cut them apart with disciplined bursts before they could rise.

Priyar had no time to watch as he looked for fresh foes, he saw the second Raider had closed with Zeax's squad and disgorged its passengers into combat, they had expected to easily kill the heavy weapons squad but the Sergeant's Thunder Hammer was robbing them of that delusion as he reaped a fearful tally amid their ranks. Priyar was about to move to assist when he saw the third Raider bearing down upon them from nowhere, closing with inexorable force to smash him with its bulk.

Before he even knew what he was doing he dove hard for the ground and snatched up Gorfan's fallen meltagun, he rolled in the dust and came up on his back holding the gun before him as his finger found the trigger. Even as he squeezed the Raider flashed past his eyes travelling at full speed and the craft impaled itself onto the fusion blast like a ship sailing onto a jagged reef, in one second its thin hull was ripped asunder and its arcane drives were disembowelled. Priyar sat up just in time to see the last Raider plough into the ground and carve a long furrow into the ashen dirt, its crew sought to disembark but the Space Marines were upon them and they were swiftly crushed under a tide of ceramite armour and bludgeoning weapons.

Priyar gasped for air as his armour struggled to keep pace with his oxygen demand, its life support pushed to the limit by the taxing fight, he checked his squad's life signs and saw that only one brother had died but several more severely injured, the Eldar had underestimated their enemy and paid the price. He was about to call for other squad's to report and prepare them for the next wave of attackers when his visual feed lit up with the light of a repeating signal, it was coming from within the Dark Eldar's base and it was the first and only sign they would get that Imix and his Smoke-Jaguars had completed their part of the mission.

Priyar instantly opened the vox link back into orbit and called, "Captain Toran this is Sergeant Priyar, the Smoke-Jaguars have planted the teleport beacon, you are go for Deep Strike, I repeat you are go for teleportation!"


	18. Chapter 18

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 18**

The teleportarium of the Silent Hunter was a temple to the arcane mysteries of the Omnissiah, a place for reverence and devotions that had continued uninterrupted for centuries. The space was filled with mighty towers of humming machinery and strange protuberances that spat fat lightning from pylon to pylon, cooling towers shone cherry red as they sought to keep pace with the surging energies. Everywhere chanting Mechanicus Magi moved in patterns pleasing to the Omnissiah as they swung censers filled with blessed incense and recited binary litanies to soothe the machine spirits, the whole place resonated with barely restrained power and the tang of disaster held at by the slenderest of margins.

In the centre of the teleportarium a group of Space Marines were stood upon a wide Adamantium plate, they were spread out in a circle with weapons pointed outwards as they tried not to stare at the bizarre rituals going on around them. Stood at one cardinal point was Captain Toran, he was holding the Sword of Thiel ready as he communicated over the vox, to his right were the brothers of his Command Squad, Furion, Bylan, Novak, Persion and Jediah while to his left was Sergeant Lorath and his assault squad.

They were waiting for the signal from the ground team that the Dark Eldar had taken the bait which should allow the infiltrators to plant a teleport beacon, it was a simple plan but everyone was thinking of what could go wrong, it was still infinitely preferable to thinking about the upcoming teleportation. As Toran co-ordinated their efforts Furion glanced over at young Bylan who was tightly gripping the Company Standard, many mortals wouldn't understand why they were taking a banner into battle but any Astartes would have grasped how it would fire the courage of the Brothers and how they would fight all the harder for standing in its shadow.

Furion saw that Bylan was kneading the adamantium haft with his hands and the Sergeant asked, "Is this first time you have used a teleportarium?"

Bylan nodded and replied, "+Yes but I have heard the Veterans speak of it… they did not sound reassuring+"

Furion stated, "Quieten your anxiety brother, it will take but a moment, one second you are here and the next you are there."

Novak chipped in to say, "That's right, nothing to worry about you are only going to be shunted through the Warp itself, exposed to its currents and monsters without a Gellar field."

"Novak… shut up" Furion said as everybody squirmed at that thought but the Sergeant carried on, "Stand proud brothers and remember that this is but a trial like any other and we shall overcome it!"

The conversation was interrupted as Toran declared, "The beacon has gone active, the Smoke-Jaguars have done it, everybody prepare for Deep Strike!"

Instantly everybody tensed up and gripped their weapons tighter as the Tech-Priests chanting became frantic and the intermittent lighting flashing over their heads surged into a thunderous barrage. The noise level was incredible and the strobing lights made the room seem like a scene from a nightmare, Toran looked over at the most ornately clad Tech-Priest and saw him hold up one hand with three metal fingers extended. He reduced that to two as the great cooling towers blazed scarlet and struggled to keep pace with the mighty engines while any loose items rattled and jittered from the fierce vibrations, then the Tech Priest dropped to one finger and the gathered Mechanicus Magi raised their arms in praise to the Machine God.

The gathered Space Marines were not afraid, it was not possible for them to be afraid but even so concern and trepidation tainted their thoughts, sensing his brother's unease Furion raised his voice and loudly shouted over the din, "We are the Emperor's finest warriors, our will is iron and our muscles steel, in war we are forged and no foe can best us in battle! We are the Bulwark against the Terror; we are the Defenders of Humanity, We are the Space Marines!"

And as one everybody raised their voices to cry in defiance of the horror to come, "And We Shall Know No Fear!"

Finally the last finger fell and a waterfall of lightning bolts leapt down from on high and earthed into the metal plate, surrounding the Space Marines in dazzling walls of blinding white light. The incandescent energies swept over and into the Space Marines, both burning their skin and freezing their bones at the same instant, the light penetrated every inch of them and coursed with otherworldly sensations. Those who had experienced this before would try to describe it as the inexplicable feeling of both being crushed into a tiny point and simultaneously stretched on an excruciation rack, whilst also being dropped into a bottomless pit as the universe rushed by their eyes but absolutely nobody would speak of what came next for here words failed.

The eldritch engines forced the Astartes into the Warp and they experienced the terrible sensation of their very essence dissolving, for a single second they were exposed to the nightmarish unreality of the immaterium and felt the horrific things that dwelt within turning their hungry gaze upon them. Each one of the Space Marines felt his mind and body peeled apart under the ravenous scrutiny and for a single moment they all ceased to exist, their lives and experiences reduced to an equation with a sum total of zero, they were nowhere and they were nothing all at once.

Then with a flash of light and searing pain reality snapped back into being and they found sanity reasserting itself around them, only now they were elsewhere. Toran's senses flooded back and his enhanced mind processed everything to tell him three things, the first was the check of his brother's status and he was relieved to see that the beacon assisted Teleportation had for once functioned flawlessly; all his Marines had arrived whole and intact.

The second thing he noted was that they had arrived in a macabre hall that was large enough to hold a Warhound Titan and could muster a company's worth of vehicles, yet the walls were covered in foul runes and alien script that seemed to writhe as the eye followed it. The roof that was supported by dark arcing pillars that bore an eerie resemblance to blackened ribs and from these hung human bodies in various states of ruin but none of these were dead, they were not permitted to die until every last drop of suffering had been extracted. In the very centre of the hall was towering half-arch made of creamy Wraithbone, it sat alone and exposed, apparently serving no function save as a single mote of purity in that scene of mad horror.

The third thing Toran noted was that they had arrived in the middle of a battle; all around them were purple clad bodies bearing sharp blades and spindly rifles that spat crystal splinters with no regard for their fellows. Mixed in among their numbers were a handful of Transhumans in ceramite coloured darkest brown and black, they were struggling to survive as the battle surged over them and many had already fallen to the ground with enhanced blood gushing out from gaping rents in their plate. In the midst of the battle Shade-Seer Imix was spinning his Force Staff in great loops, keeping the Xenos at bay as they enclosed him on all sides.

The battle must have been moments away from ending in the Smoke-Jaguar's defeat but the sudden emergence of the Storm Heralds changed all that, the flash and shock of displaced air had thrown the Eldar back and left many of them reeling for their too acute senses were overwhelmed. Toran wasted not a moment as he leapt forwards and swung the Sword of Thiel to slice a Wych into two then the rest of his brothers followed him into the fray, roaring in anger as they vented their rage upon the vile Eldar who had dared set foot upon one of the Emperor's worlds.

The arrival of the Storm Heralds shifted the whole balance of the fight as a heavy wedge of armoured ceramite hammered into the Eldar and crushed anything within reach, chainswords rose and fell in a relentless piston action and each blow cut the thread of an alien life. The warriors advanced mercilessly taking advantage of the Eldar's disorientation and they hammered their foes like a tireless machine of war, the Xeno's individual skills and exhibitionist styles were no match for the unity of the Astartes and the Space Marines tore them to shreds in frenzy of bloodletting. This was war at its most brutal and inelegant, the sharp point of the spear being driven home and the graceful panache of the Eldar could not cope.

In seconds the Storm Heralds had slaughtered two score Xeno but the moment could not last for a tight knot of Dark Eldar Warriors was reforming, coming together to form an effective firing line even as their kin fell to the Astartes' weapons. They rallied around a Sybarite who screamed threats and imprecations at them and in moments he turned a gaggle of broken individuals into a deadly wall of jagged weapons, a manoeuvre that the most skilled Imperial Stormtroopers could not have performed with months of practice being accomplished in a blink of an eye.

Caught in the melee the Storm Heralds could not prevent the Sybarite directing his brethren to bring their weapons to bear, disregarding the lives of their kin as they trained their weapons on the heart of the fight. Toran saw that the looming danger was and called, "Lorath, beware the Sybarite, take him down!"

Instantly the Sergeant heaved himself around and began hacking a path towards the knot of warriors, his assault squad followed him with chainswords cleaving apart purple clad bodies as they advanced. The Sybarite spotted them coming and redirected his warrior's salvo, concentrating entirely upon the Sergeant in an effort to take him down, Lorath saw the gun turning upon him and acted by stabbing his lightning claws into a random Eldar in his path and holding the Xeno up before him. Barely had he raised his meatshield when the fire fell upon him, riddling the body with lethal shards of crystal as the Sergeant ran at the knot of warriors.

Lorath snarled in anger and shook free the gory mess from his claws and then he pounced upon the warriors like a great predator upon a wounded gazelle, his lightning claws flashed with deadly speed tearing left and right to shred all he touched, all by himself he cut the knot of Eldar apart and the Sybarite was last to fall with his chest ripped to ribbons. Toran saw the Sergeant's feat from amid the melee and was about to hail him with words of thanks but the cry died upon his lips as he saw fresh foes joining the fight. Entering the hall from a shadowy arch at the far end was another wave of enemies, warriors and Wyches leaping into battle with shrieking cries upon their lips, there were scores of them pouring into the fight and they surrounded the Space Marines with overwhelming numbers. Leading them was an Archon in shimmering blood hued armour who wielded a long blade in one hand and a twitching whip in the other: it was Athra J'rect and he had come to claim the pleasure of the kill personally.

Toran saw the Archon sprinting into the fight was a mocking smile upon his lips and the Captain did not hesitate to act, he raised his Relic blade high for all to see and bellowed, "Forward brothers and let us end this filth, We are the Emperor's Storm!"

As one his Marines followed him as they shouted, "We are His wrath!"


	19. Chapter 19

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 19**

In the very heart of the Dark Eldar base a battle raged in the shadow of the Wraithbone pillar, depraved Xenos poured into the chamber with weapons held high and harsh cries upon their lips, facing them a ceramite clad giants met the charge with roaring weapons and equally fierce bellows denouncing the alien and called upon the Emperor to witness their deeds. In the heart of the melee Captain Toran was hewing away at scurrying foes, they were quick enough so that most of his blows missed yet whenever he did manage to make contact his relic blade scythed pale flesh into gory ribbons. All around him were the slender forms of Warriors and Wyches, who darted in and out striking at him and his brothers before withdrawing, the Space Marines tried to follow but before they could move another Eldar would dash in and another and another.

Lorath's squad was beset by Xenos but refused to be cowed and fought on like lions, they slammed shoulder to shoulder with the surviving Smoke-Jaguars and together formed a wall of Ceramite resistance while to the Captain's right Jediah was being confronted by a Wych who held long knives inverted in each hand, she weaved around the Marine's attacks as her blade nicked at the plates of his amour and she laughed contemptuously at his clumsy efforts to hit her. She dived under a roundhouse blow from his Fractal blade and tensed before jumping straight up and over Jediah's head but she had made a fatal mistake, as she reached the apex of her arc the Marine's gauntlet shot out and grabbed her ankle in a vice like grip. The Wych fell the ground in a crumpled heap and her screams changed from delight to horror as Jediah reeled her in like a fish on a line, he gathered her up and slammed his blade into her open mouth, angling upwards to destroy the brain.

Meanwhile Persion was hewing about with a red hot Friction axe, he was hacking at an Eldar with a long top knot of hair running from his elongated helm but with every swing the warrior would step out the line an instant before impact, there was an elegant grace to his movements that surpassed the finest human ballet dancer and nothing Persion could do managed to make contact. Frustrated the Space Marine raised his axe high and the Eldar sneered as he stepped right to avoid the blow but realised too late he had made a mistake, as he moved to the right he encountered Persion's boot lashing out and the kick met the Eldar's knee like a jackhammer. The warrior shrieked as his bones shattered but that did not last long, before he could hit the ground Persion's axe swept down and cleaved his head into two.

Elsewhere Bylan was confronted by a trio of warriors who came at him with murder in their eyes, he gripped a gladius in one hand and the Company Standard in the other as he fended them off, the weight of the banner slowed him down and he struggled to keep them at bay yet he refused to drop the flag in his determination to uphold the honour of his brotherhood. He was saved by Furion who came barrelling into the fray like a Grox stampede, the Eldar instantly changed the focus of their attacks but the Sergeant was relentless as he smashed into them and the doughty weight of his Mark III armour snapped limbs with the sheer heft of it. Bylan renewed his attacks and between them the two Marines smashed the Eldar apart, unfortunately there was no time for thanks for the next wave of attackers struck forcing the brothers to fight shoulder to shoulder in a struggle to survive.

While his Marines were fighting for their lives Toran found himself confronted by none other than the Archon himself, Athra J'rect coming at him with sword and whip in hand, he was not alone though for with him came his bodyguards, a half dozen of his best warriors. The Captain raised his own blade and prepared to fight these elite guards, determined that even if it took every last drop of his blood he would carve a path to the Archon and end this battle but it seemed that was not required. Just before the Captain could reach the guards a blue clad figure ran past him and dove straight at the guards, it was Novak and he raced to intercept the best of the Dark Eldar with his shining blade in hand.

The half dozen guards met him with a wail as they matched his blade stroke for stroke and thrust for thrust in a dazzling whirlwind of flashing steel, it was incredible to see such a display of skill, the best swordsmen that two species could produce engaged in a struggle for supremacy. Novak's blade and combat shield were everywhere as he thrust and defended simultaneously, using the edge of his shield as a weapon as often as the edge of his sword and he cried, "I've got this lot Captain; you take the head off that viper!" Toran forced himself to turn away from the duel and face the Archon, knowing that if he aided his Champion then Athra might escape but found that flight was not the Eldar's intention.

Even as the Captain came about Athra's sword was hurtling towards his face, Toran barely managed to get his sword up in time to deflect the thrust and was instantly forced to twist away as the blade rolled around his defence and came down in an attempt to cut him open throat from to groin. The next blow came out of nowhere and Toran barely managed to duck in time so that it merely scored across his helm leaving a deep groove, Athra's speed was amazing, his style flawless and only the thickness of the Captain's armour had saved his life. The Captain fell back, hurriedly defending himself as the Archon came at him in a blizzard of attacks and Athra laughed as he exhorted, "Exhilarating is not?! Can't you feel your blood rushing faster, your hearts beating louder at the knowledge that your death is moments away!"

Toran had no wish to engage in banter but desperately needed an opening and in an attempt to distract his foe called, "It is you who shall die filth!"

Athra was relentless in his attacks as he called, "Idiotic Mon-Keigh the skein will not allow me to fall this day and surely not to the likes of you!"

In a flash Toran realised that the Eldar's staggering overconfidence was his weakness and he momentarily lowered his guard, Athra grinned wickedly at the sight and went for the opening, immediately Toran swung about intending to break his foe with one mighty blow but realised too late that it was he who had been tricked. With his eyes fixed upon Athra's sword he had not seen the Archon's whip coming about until too late and before he could think about what he was doing he raised his arm to block it, the agoniser curled around his limb and instantly Toran felt a debilitating frenzy of electric bolt carving into his nerve endings.

The agony was intense, making him feel like he was on fire and his muscles went into involuntary spasms entirely beyond his control, he convulsed in the whip's embrace as it burned his insides making every moment a unique torture all its own. The suffering to his body was intense but pain was no stranger to an Astartes, the real hurt was to his armour's spirit and it was ten times worse, the plate quivered as its neural interfaces were overloaded while the fibre bundles jerked and convulsed from conflicting orders. Toran was completely disabled by the whip's spiteful energies and Athra J'rect threw back his head in ecstasy as he felt one of the Emperor's own Space Marines in torment, the pain was a banquet to his warped senses and it fed his soul as he paused to drink in every last morsel before killing his prey, it was a moment of hesitation that would cost him dear because far behind the Archon, Shade-Seer Imix had seen the Captain's distress and knew that only he had the power to intervene.

In a moment of desperation Imix dropped his self-imposed limitations to draw more heavily upon the Warp than he had ever dared before, his psychic hood blazed and his armour misted with unnatural hoarfrost as he let a tsunami of power fill his being. He could hear Daemons chittering as they clawed at his defences but he shut them out and focussed upon shaping his stolen power. He heated it with his fury, he hammered it with his will and he quenched it with the disciplines of the Librarius to create an avatar of his very self. Reality blinked as a mighty beast form manifested from Imix's mind and condensed into being before him, it was a mighty feline predator as large as a Dreadnought, with fangs the size of swords and claws that could rend a Rhino.

Imix cast it forthwith a gesture that sent the avatar of his will rampaging into the battle. It moved like lightning, tearing and crushing anything that stood between it and it target: Athra and the helpless Captain. The Eldar scattered as the manifestation tore through their ranks, instinctively recognising the deadly threat the psychic projection was to their minds and souls, still many of them were too slow and they were torn asunder as the beast charged through them. Athra saw the beast coming and tried to twist out of its way, with his dazzling speed he actually managed to succeed in evading the monster but in doing so forgot his prisoner, as the manifestation hurtled past them Toran gathered his remaining strength into one last effort and with a sequel of punished servo motors he wrenched his arm backwards and snapped the agoniser whip.

Athra was stunned by the sudden change in circumstances and reacted instinctively by thrusting his blade at the Captain's heart but Toran was already in motion, spinning around and bringing the Sword of Thiel around like a cleaver to hack into the Eldar's arm. Thin Xeno plate met a relic of the Great Crusade and was parted like damp leaves under the weight of the blow and in one great sweep Toran cut off the Archon's arm, Athra screamed in outrage more than pain as the Mon-Keigh humiliated and disfigured him. Toran lurched drunkenly and fell to his knees with his strength spent and for a moment the two lords were equally vulnerable, Athra retreated clinging to the stump of his arm with his remaining hand as he cried, "You shall pay for this, I shall have your head Mon-Keigh!"

With those words the Archon jumped backwards towards the unusual, creamy wraithbone pillar and as he did so he spat a single eldritch word, the air shimmered for a moment and then a perfect circle of darkness blinked into being and swallowed Athra whole. Instantly every Eldar in the hall threw down their weapons and ran to follow him, turning their back on the Space Marines who were left hacking at thin air, even as they sent bolt shells chasing their foes the Xeno fled and as each one passed into the blackness they too disappeared.

Toran heaved himself back onto his feet as his implanted organs flooded him with concentrated hormones and drunkenly called out, "After them!" but Imix cried, "No, do not enter the Labyrinthine dimension or you shall be lost!"

"We can't let them escape" Toran wheezed. Imix barked, "You have no choice, where they have gone none can follow."

"What does that mean?" Toran asked still bewildered by the unexpected turn of events, Furion stepped up and said, "It means this war is over, we have won!"


	20. Chapter 20

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 20**

Against the star spackled backdrop of space the world of Clom spun eternally onwards, continuing on its lonely path as it had so for millions of years uninterrupted, it had danced among the stars since long before the rise of man and would do so long after man returned to dust. Today though long lines of transports and Mass-Conveyors were thrusting out of orbit, rising slowly with holds packed full of refined metals as they broke for deep space. Their goal was the Warp Translation point and they scrambled to reach it, driven by the threat of the Immaterium surging into turmoil and trapping them all here for the next ten years.

Moving among their number was the majestic form of the Silent Hunter, effortlessly overtaking the lumbering transports as the warship prepared for the jump into the roiling madness of the Warp. Walking along her spinal observation bays were a pair of Storm Heralds, it was Captain Toran and Sergeant Furion and they paced slowly as they gazed out at the stars with their own eyes, in no particular hurry to reach their destination.

Toran was staring out the receding orb of Clom and the reflection from his augmetic eye cast a red smear over the view portal that seemed all too appropriate, he took in the planet and asked, "Tell me, do you think we have served the Emperor well with this campaign?"

Furion cocked his head, his face bore many scars but there remained a rough nobility to the set of his jaw as he said, "Undoubtedly, we rooted out a heretic and drove off an alien infestation, the plasma charges we set upon their Webway Gate blew the entire base to atoms: they will not be returning that way in a hurry."

Toran sighed and said, "I would not be so sure, nothing is ever certain with the Eldar and they may yet find another way back to this world."

Furion looked at his Captain and said, "Sir we successfully achieved our Primary and Secondary mission objectives, what is troubling you?"

Toran grimaced as they walked and said, "We are the champions of humanity and yet have we left this world better than when we found it?"

"Ah" said Furion, "You have concerns about the new planetary Governor: Ricko Dumman."

Toran nodded and said, "The man is greedy and venal, his only thoughts are for his own benefit and he cares little for the rule of Terra, I predict he is too cowardly to lead a rebellion but even then this world will suffer under his administration."

Furion drew in a breath and said, "The Emperor made us to fight his wars not audit his governors, let the Inquisition deal with him, we will soon have other foes to fight."

Toran nodded at and said, "Sage counsel as always, so tell me how do you rate our Company's performance?"

Furion stood taller and said, "The fires of true battle have forged our squads into an effective force, their spirit is strong and many of the petty disagreements and slights have been forgotten, the battles have united them into a brotherhood that shall endure. The only blemish is our casualties, many brothers were wounded and Gorfan will require a new arm but the worst is that we lost five initiates in one campaign, a steep price indeed."

"Four" countered Toran, "When we returned for the armour of those buried in the mines we found brother Grethan was merely in a sus-an-membrane coma, Memnos is certain he can make a full recovery once we return to the Fortress Monastery."

"Some good news" said Furion, "But before we can return home there is still a matter of honour that must be settled."

"Indeed" said Toran glumly as they reached their destination, the entranceway to a lone steeple tower that protruded from the spine of the Silent Hunter, well away from anything else on the ship. The door was inscribed with the sign of a ram's skull and it was covered in marks of warding and runes of aversion; it was the portal to the Librarius' sanctum and the dwelling of Shade-Seer Imix.

The pair made no attempt to signal their presence to the inhabitants, partially because they knew that they had tripped countless alarms by merely walking this far but mostly because neither of them was at all eager to enter the abode of the Warp-touched. They stood in silence for a full minute until without any preamble the doors split down the middle and parted to reveal blackness beyond, stood in the middle of the gap was a wizened serf whose eyes had been put out to stop him seeing madness and whose tongue had been removed lest he speak forbidden secrets. Even without sight the serf seemed to know who was waiting outside for he waved the pair inside and set off at a slow walk into the darkness, Toran swallowed a knot of apprehension and stepped boldly within as he tried not to flinch at the first horror awaiting him.

The pair followed the serf into the darkness and found themselves in a plain stone clad corridor lit by flickering lumen orbs, Toran hadn't known what to expect but this was somewhat disappointing in fact it was barely distinguishable from one of the initiate barracks of his own Chapter. The serf led them along the corridor and they passed a number of plain doors on either side hiding Emperor alone knew what, Toran tried not to look too hard lest he see something he would regret in this abode of Witches but thankfully nothing leapt out at him.

After a few minutes the serf paused at a door completely identical to the others and he bowed before leaving them outside, Toran wondered if he should knock but before he could decide the door swung open to reveal Shade-Seer Imix wearing a plain tabard and open sandals. The Librarian looked weary for his pale features were marked with ashes and deep furrows yet he gestured them inside saying, "Welcome, this is an unexpected visit."

Toran stepped within and found a squat cell filled with a large circle of ashes on the floor and a discarded flail bloodied from flagellation, on the far wall was reliquary that was sealed and shut with purity seals. The Captain stepped gingerly for he did not want to mar some important ward but Imix scowled and kicked the ashen circle aside and waved for them to stand easy as he said, "I regret that I have no refreshments for such honoured guests but I have been occupied with matters of penance."

"Penance" said Furion curiously, "I was not aware that your Chapter had such stringent protocols following victory."

Imix's scowl deepened and he said, "For a Librarian the manner in which victory is won can be as important as the victory itself, I overreached in the final fight and must atone for my carelessness."

Toran was confused and said, "I was under the impression that you saved my life and won the battle, surely such an achievement should be celebrated not lamented."

Imix drew in a breath and said, "How to explain such theologies to the uninitiated… well know that the first law is that all power comes with a price and the greater the feat the greater the cost, woe unto those who think that power comes without consequence. I drank too greedily and too deep of its tainted bounty and risked far more than all our lives when I did so, I exposed myself to the Daemons of the Warp and a single slip may have let the Neverborn into my flesh."

Furion stated, "Yet you didn't slip."

Imix replied, "But I may have and even that is too great a risk, ask your own Librarians and they will tell you a litany of the horrors that occur when a Prince of the Warp finds a host. True are the words: Better to die for the Emperor than live for yourself."

Toran was disturbed by this revelation of how close to disaster they had come and he changed the subject saying, "I have no authority to censure your acts but I must have redress for your actions in the mines, your subsequent deeds were honourable but I need to know why you abandoned us."

Imix said evasively, "I have explained that it was a matter of Chapter honour."

Toran replied, "My Chapter Master will not accept that, he will declare a feud if I cannot give him a good cause."

Imix sighed and said, "My Shade-Lord would not welcome such news... very well it seems I shall have to double my penance."

With those words he turned to face the reliquary and bowed low with his hands forming the sign of the Aquila, then he deferentially reached out and broke the seals before opening the doors to reveal the contents. Within was a single ingot of Transparisteel shaped into the form of a massive teardrop and threaded with delicate gold wires, the object was as long as Toran's forearm and seemed to be a receptacle for a smaller item, a single spar of thin, grey metal that was shorn off at one end.

Toran was perplexed by this and said, "What is it?"

Imix breathed reverently and whispered, "A feather."

Toran looked at the metal spar and raised an eyebrow quizzically saying, "A feather?"

"Yes" Imix replied in awe, "A single quill from the Korvidine Pinions, torn from the Sable Armour of Corvus Corax himself upon the killing fields of Istvaan V, its recovery is a legend in its own right and it was entrusted to the Smoke-Jaguars in perpetuity."

Toran was incredulous and spat, "You abandoned our brothers to die over a feather?!"

Imix bristled and said, "It was our legacy, the last link we had to our Primarch and it was stolen from our vaults by a Traitor, may his name be forever forgotten, for a thousand years we have scoured the stars seeking to undo that shame!"

Furion stepped in before anyone could say something they would regret and declared, "It is to you what the Sword of Thiel is to the Storm Heralds."

That set Toran back for he well understood the impulse to connect with the legendary Primarchs, every Space Marine craved a link to their ancient, long gone fathers and the urge to commune with their gene-sires was practically written into the genetic codes of every Astartes. It was one of the bedrocks of their brotherhoods and he himself had not been above exploiting such a trait where necessary, Toran did not believe in divine legacies but he knew that in similar circumstances there was nothing his Chapter would not do to recover a touchstone of their Primarch.

Toran paused then said, "Please forgive my rash words, I misspoke out of ignorance, I shall explain this to Chapter Master Gorgall and tell him that the honour of the Smoke-Jaguars is beyond blemish."

Imix nodded and said, "No offense was taken and if you keep this information to your Lord alone then Shade-Lord K'inich Yux shall hear that the Storm Heralds are most worthy allies and that we owe you an blood debt."

Toran bowed his head respectfully for such words carried great weight among the Astartes, bonds like this were never given lightly and always fulfilled when called upon, he had just earned a mighty ally for his Chapter yet he still said, "I thank you Imix but do you have the authority to make such a pledge?"

Imix smirked and said, "K'inich Yux listens to me."

Furion said doubtfully, "Does he heed a mere Shade-Seer?"

Imix let out a short laugh at that and declared, "Oh, you don't know, well let me put it this way our Chapter Master is a Shade-Lord so what does that make a Shade-Seer?"

Toran swallowed in shocked disbelief as the implications struck him and he extended his hand saying, "The Storm Heralds are pleased to count you among our allies, Chief Librarian Imix."


	21. Chapter 21

**Umbram Ignis: Chapter 21**

In a place between reality and the Warp there was a city, it was made up of jagged towers, insane arches covered in spiked hooks and dangling chains that held corpses in various states of decay, the city extended not only horizontally but also vertically, diagonally and in certain directions that could not exist within real space. Black pleasure yachts moved over these cityscapes on billowing black sails as they took in the various sights of torment and agony played out in great arenas, while on the hidden street acts of pain and pleasure played out often simultaneously for this was Commarragh the dwelling of the depraved Dark Eldar.

Beneath a black sun there rose a decadent plantation, a pain garden made up of metallic trees, each one was hollow and inside their swollen trunks were a collection of sentient beings in torment. These trees were their cages and each one was cunningly wrought to provide a unique and agonising torture, some were lined inside with poisons or long spikes, some alternated between burning hot and freezing cold and one even resonated in the wind creating a tuneless cacophony that would drive any man mad. There were not just Mon-Keighs trapped within either for many trees held other races too; Tau, Deimurg, Tarellians, Scythians, Psybrids, Jokero, Rak'Gol not to mention a few Dark Eldar themselves who had fallen foul of Commarragh's endless intrigues.

Amid the roots of the trees two Eldar were taking a pleasant stroll in the pain gardens, sampling each torment in turn like connoisseurs walking along the rows of a vineyard. One of them was Athra J'rect, lord of the Impaled Heart Kabal, his robes were jet black inlaid with embroidery in colours that were well outside the range of merely human eyesight, he walked with a dignified air and did not deign to notice any servants or slaves he passed. His lordly air was ruined though by the red mass flesh below his right elbow, the work of Commarragh's flesh smiths who had induced his body to grow a new limb, yet it would be months before it resembled a true arm and until then he lived in constant pain.

The injury to his flesh was not debilitating, in fact Athra found it slightly titillating but the affront to his pride was insurmountable, to think that a mere Gene-Bulk had taken a pound of his flesh was an outrage he intended to address. To distract himself he had taken this tour of his pain gardens so that the bounty of suffering would suffuse his spirit and restore his physical being, as he walked Athra glanced over at his companion, this Eldar was clad head to toe in dark form fitting armour and he carried a large two handed Klaive in his hands. The fact that he was permitted to bear a blade so close to the Archon spoke volumes as to his identity for this was the head of Athra's Incubus bodyguards and his name was Dramaq.

Dramaq had come to into the service of the Impaled Heart Kabal at exorbitant cost but he had been worth every slave the Archon had been forced to donate, like all Incubus Dramaq was utterly neutral in the power plays of Commarragh which made his order completely unique. Incubi could not be bribed, swayed or threatened to break their contracts which made them invaluable as bodyguards and enforcers, loyalty was a rare and precious thing among the Dark Eldar and it was worth any price to acquire.

As they walked Athra paused to sniff a delicate poisoned bloom hanging from a tree and asked, "Is it done?"

Dramaq voice resonated from within his helm as he said, "Yes, all those who accompanied your raid have had their heads struck off and put on spikes lest their tongues wag."

Athra smiled and said, "Good, we cannot have word of this humiliation spreading, if the other Kabals heard of this they would scent weakness and strike."

"I should have been there" stated Dramaq, it was not a statement of pride or protectiveness but simple fact for they both knew the Incubus' presence would have changed everything.

Athra said childishly, "It was just a simple slave-raid, one more pleasant little outing but those brutish Mon-Keigh spoiled everything!"

"What of the Wych-cult?" asked Dramaq bringing the conversation back on track.

Athra scowled for like Dramaq the Wyches belonged to an institution outside his purview and killing them would make him far too many powerful enemies so he said, "Purchasing their silence was costly but ultimately less dear than the alternative, we shall have to mount more raids soon or their favour will wane."

The pair paused before a single metal tree which was being tended to by a stooped figure, within the device a Mon-Keigh was imprisoned by large inwards pointing spikes that tore his flesh. Hanging just outside the cage was a large key on a string and if the Mon-Keigh pressed itself hard enough against the against the spikes to draw blood then it could just brush the key with its fingertips but the angle was perfectly calculated so that no matter how hard it tried the animal could never grasp it.

Athra supped deeply of the beast's despair and declared, "Crisp and tart with just hint of bitterness and an astringent aftertaste."

The stooped figure stood up and said, "The secret is to lace the repast with a sprig of hope, it adds a delightful relish when it is dashed."

Athra looked upon the bent and warped figure and saw that he had three arms and his back was festooned with vials of various hues, the Archon made the third ritual gesture of salutation, implying a social superior meeting a lesser but not one he intended to offend as he said, "Vl'hyas isn't this beneath a Haemonculi?"

Vl'hyas presented the fourth stance of greeting which was used for social equals saying, "My experiments had reached a lull and these amateurs you employ were making a hash of the crops, I left few of them choking on their own bile to set an example."

Athra was about to enquire more but Dramaq interrupted to say, "Archon, your visitors have arrived."

Athra scowled and looked over to see that his warriors were escorting a pair of bulky intruders towards him, he grimaced to himself in disgust for they were massively thick beings in heavy ceramite armour and the distinctive gene-bulking of the Mon-Keigh warrior caste, but these were no corpse worshippers: they were Chaos Marines. Athra was insulted by their presence, typical Mon-Keigh at least could plea ignorance to excuse their barbarity but these ones had willingly thrown in with the abominations of the Warp, sadly so low had Athra's fortunes waned that he was forced to entertain such debased creatures.

One of the brutes walking towards him had a ridiculously crude axe stowed in its belt and he was dragging a covered cart behind it that spoiled the beauty of Athra's grounds with its primitive tracks, the other one bore a staff with a three headed snake and he reeked of soured psychic potential like spoiled milk on a hot day. The intruders pulled up before the Archon and the tainted psyker made a pathetic attempt to enact the second ritual gesture of supplication, completely mangling the subtle cues to indicate the superior position of the Archon, the other one however merely crossed his arms and glared at Dramaq as if wishing to make a challenge.

Athra sighed at having to deal with such crude beasts and said in tones that to any other Eldar would have conveyed his great generosity at showing patience to such rude guests, "Well you made quite an effort to obtain an audience in my presence, so you had better get on with it."

The psyker bowed again and said in a mashed Eldar dialect, "Hail Athra J'rect, me is Beta and come tidings and missives to your ears."

Athra cut him off with a raised hand, offended by such garbled language and he said in the Mon-Keigh's coarse High Gothic, "First tell me what tribute you brought."

"As you wish" Beta replied also in High Gothic and glanced to the side saying, "Gamma, show the Archon our gift."

The other brute dragged forth the cart and swept back the tarpaulin to reveal a strange mismatched creature, it was perhaps arachnid or crustacean in origin and it had a curious lack of symmetry to its form, Athra breathed in wonder, "A Saruthi, I thought they were extinct."

Vl'hyas stepped forwards and said ravenously, "Already tainted in spirit and lacking eyes or ears… A challenge at last."

Athra was somewhat impressed by such a rare prize and said, "You have my attention."

Beta nodded and said, "We have learnt your recent clash with the Imperial lapdogs and know that you thirst for vengeance."

Dramaq started forwards and spat, "How do you know about that?!"

"We have our ways" said Beta with a chuckle and said, "There are resources and forces that can aid you in your struggle against the Storm Heralds Chapter."

Athra sneered and said, "You propose an alliance, you think I will debase myself to such a level?"

Beta didn't seem offended and replied, "Less of an alliance and more of an alignment of forces, we have no more wish to work with you than you do with us."

Athra was not pleased by this but decided to be practical, he had not risen to the position of Archon by failing to exploit every advantage and said, "Then perhaps I may consider your proposal, what forces do you bid towards our mutual goal?"

Beta chuckled now and said, "It seems I was not clear, we do not come as representatives of our own Legion but of another party, she desires to talk with you but could never set foot within your fair city under any circumstances. Think of us as intermediaries, a bridge between the pair of you so that you can converse with her safely."

Athra was confused by this and said, "And who is this mysterious She?"

Beta answered by holding up a hand and nestled within his gauntlet was a small hololithic projector, typically Mon-Keigh in its squat functionality yet the image it shone was anything but, it was of a lithe female with graceful armour and clean swept limbs. Athra's gaze hungrily devoured the sight and he leant into examine the armour's fluted crests and graceful sweeping curves that were distinctive to an Eldar of the Aeldari, he took in the rune work on her robes and the thin staff she bore and realised that this was not just any craftworld Eldar: this was a Farseer.

Athra felt his jaded heart stir at the sight, the suffering of lesser races was insignificant compared to the anguish an Eldar's soul could feel and Farseer even more so, their psychic might was a banquet just waiting to be gorged upon. With one look Athra was yearning to bring her into his pain gardens and he ached to think of the possibilities, he didn't just want her he needed her. The recorded image bowed low and Athra raised an eyebrow for she was making an ancient variation of the sixth stance of salutation, used for meeting a lord from a different order but one of higher social rank.

The image began to speak and the words made him smile as the recording declared, "Greetings great Archon of the Impaled Heart Kabal, I am Farseer T'selia and I wish to meet with you, there are matter of terrible import afoot and only you can change the skein: there is a Mon-Keigh out in the galaxy who must be removed at all costs."

She declared, "The one who cut you, his name is Toran and it is essential for the sake of all Eldar everywhere that we kill him before he can enact his destiny."

The End.


End file.
